


To Save a King

by WordsAreTrulyBeautiful



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur is a Prat, Assumptions, Druids, Jealousy, M/M, Pining, Prophecy, creative use of pig slop, gwaine is a flirt, merlin reverse bang, oblivious!Merlin, outside inspirations, visiting nobles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 02:46:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 60,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10958067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsAreTrulyBeautiful/pseuds/WordsAreTrulyBeautiful
Summary: Altering the future is a dangerous game, but when a new prophecy comes to light, Merlin must travel to a long deserted land to save Arthur's life.  His magic and his heart be damned.





	To Save a King

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first ever bang fic, and only my second ever Merlin fic! 
> 
> All the wonderful art is by [Merlinsdehuene](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sindhunathi/pseuds/Merlinsdehuene/works), whose tumblr is [here](http://merlinsdeheune.tumblr.com/)! All art for the fic can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10960641), but you might want to check out that post in the future again as more art may be added! The prompt image can be found [here](http://imgur.com/LaB719U) and below. Some of you may recognize it. It, and as a result, this fic, was inspired by the Land of Untold Stories in Once Upon a Time. Please note that within the fic, the land is only inspired by OUaT's, and is essentially just borrowing the rough concept of it. 
> 
> I'd like to thank my wonderful Beta [schweet_heart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/schweet_heart/pseuds/schweet_heart), for rushing to beta this for me at the last minute. All remaining mistakes are my own. 
> 
> I never actually meant for this to be this long... I feel like I say that a lot. I've no self control, honestly. Anyway, please enjoy this most likely ridiculous fic. It was an absolute joy to write, and wonderful (read: an honour) to work with [merlinsdeheune](http://merlinsdeheune.livejournal.com/) . Follow me on tumblr at [arthur-the-cute](http://arthur-the-cute.tumblr.com/)! My ask box is always open for prompts!

* * *

  

“ _Mer_ lin, don’t be such a girl,” the prat’s taunting voice drifted from beside the horse in front of him. “Look, it’s been a long day and I just want a tankard of mead,” Arthur said, squinting in the sunlight as he threw the reins of his horse at Merlin to tie up. “It’s a tavern just like any other. Stop being such a coward all the time and hurry up.”

“It’s not being a coward; it’s having some sense of self-preservation!” Merlin called after him. He eyed the dodgy-looking tavern, run down with several broken windows, a half broken door, and bars on the windows. Merlin got that sense of foreboding that usually meant he’d have to risk his neck yet again to save Arthur’s life. “Have you got any self-preservation?” Merlin asked. “Any? At all?”

Arthur gave him that look he so often reserved for Merlin. The one that couldn’t be described as anything but an eye roll, but with his whole face. Its effect was slightly lessened by the fact that the King of Camelot currently had a twig in his hair and a smudge of mud on his right cheekbone. Maybe if Arthur hadn’t been such a prat before, Merlin would have told him.

“Come on!” Arthur complained. “You’re useless.”

Merlin kept his mouth shut about the twig and mud. He finished tying up the horses and followed Arthur into the tavern.

It was no better on the inside. There was barely enough light to see, but what Merlin could see was better left in the dark. The tables were old, dirty, and made of borderline rotting wood. The floor was sticky as Merlin walked, and the walls looked grimy (from what he could see of them). There was a damp chill in the air, and the entire place smelled of stale mead and sweat with a hint of something far more foul. Merlin gagged a little as his senses were overpowered with a wave of stink. Arthur’s face was pinched with a look of thinly veiled disgust.

Despite all of this, the tavern was quite busy.

Of course, all the patrons looked as if they had a list of wrongdoings a mile long. Merlin figured he could pick any one of them at random and if Arthur knew everything the person had done, he’d have them dragged back to Camelot for a trial and hanging. There was no such thing as innocents in this tavern.

Arthur seemed to slow down, and keep closer to him. Merlin wasn’t sure what to make of that, but he hoped it meant Arthur was thinking about leaving. Merlin wouldn’t mind getting the horses immediately, even if he had just tied them up.

At least nobody had recognized Arthur.

Arthur made his way to a table, sitting gingerly on the chair and grimacing. He didn’t quite seem to know where to place his hands, but the table- top seemed out of the question. Merlin couldn’t help but agree. Arthur’s desire for alcohol apparently outweighed his disgust, so it looked like they were staying.

“I’ll get the mead,” Merlin said, resigned.

Arthur’s eyes, which were darting around them, looked at the back of the tavern where the barmaid was filling orders.

The plump woman had her grey hair up in a messy bun, and her clothing was stained. There was a scowl on her red- splotched face as she tried to open something. When it didn’t work she grunted loudly and twisted hard, the ‘pop’ of the bottle sounded and those around her cheered. She snorted in laughter and sniffled loudly before she spat on the floor and poured the dark liquid into a  tankard. Overall, she looked tough as nails, and seemed unfazed by the rough men around her. And there were quite a few rough men around her.

Some of them were clearly far past a sensible cutoff point, and downed their mead sloppily. They slouched in their chairs, or leaned unsteadily on tables and counters. Several of them were eyeing up the barmaid, confirming that they were truly that far gone. One of them downed his drink and turned to leave. His eyes fell on Merlin, and his lip twitched up in a sneer while his eyes travelled down Merlin’s lean body.

Merlin really didn’t understand why Arthur couldn’t have waited until they got back to Camelot for mead. They had very nice taverns in Camelot. They could even ask Gwaine for a recommendation for the best one.

The drunk man took a swaying step back towards the counter and motioned for another. Apparently, Merlin’s mere presence had convinced him to stay. Great. Maybe it was dark enough that if Merlin needed to use his magic against the drunk Arthur wouldn’t see.

“One tankard of mead coming right up,” Merlin sighed.

“I’ll get it,” Arthur said, getting up from the table. Merlin eyed him cautiously.

“You? Get your own mead?”

“ _Mer_ lin, I am capable of ordering mead, you know.”

“Are you sure?” Merlin’s eyes drifted to the rough drunks and barmaid. He should go. This was probably exactly what his sense of foreboding was about. He should not let Arthur go. At least not alone. “Why don’t I come with you?”

“And if we lose our table?” Arthur asked, eyebrows raised in prattish fashion.

“Wouldn’t really be much of a loss.” Merlin shrugged as he eyed the table in question.

“Hmmm,” Arthur responded, his own way of agreeing without giving Merlin the satisfaction of hearing it. Prat. “Well, come on then,” he said, getting up.

Merlin started walking to the barmaid, sensing Arthur already close behind him. As he got closer more drunks seemed to notice them. Some of them sent Arthur appreciative glances, making Merlin bristle a little more than he’d like, but that was something he’d had to learn to deal with for some time now. Arthur paid them no attention, and the majority of the men seemed uninterested in the strong knight. Merlin guessed it had to do with their fragile masculinity and the fact that without even knowing Arthur one could tell he could beat any of them in a fight.

No, most of them turned their attention to Merlin. Those with eyes on Arthur kept it simply to appreciating the aesthetic, much like one would appreciate a dangerous animal or a beautiful painting. Merlin stopped himself from snorting at that. Of course, Arthur could be both dangerous animal and beautiful painting. Prat.

The hairs on Merlin’s skin stood up as he felt the eyes on him increase. Merlin would like to point out that he had in fact filled out quite a bit since he first left Ealdor. Contrary to Arthur’s belief, he was not just skin and bone, and he was not weak. The last time he’d seen his mum (two months ago) she’d gushed for a solid fifteen minutes about how big and strong he was now. His shoulders had broadened, his chest was toned, and his body was leaner and more muscled all over. He even had nicely muscled arms. That wasn’t even Merlin’s or his mother’s opinion. Last time he went out with Gwaine a girl at the tavern had told him so.

Yet despite it all, Merlin, at least with his clothes on (which he planned on keeping on, thankyouverymuch) still looked rather skinny. In comparison with Arthur he looked… well… it was no wonder that the drunks looked to him instead for a more submissive type. Merlin bristled again. If Arthur wasn’t right behind him he’d set them all on their arses with a flick of his wrist just on principle.

Arthur’s body pressed closer to him, tense and alert. Merlin had the childish urge to taunt him about it. If they’d listened to Merlin they could have sat in a tavern in Camelot and had none of this… leering. Or they could have been back in Arthur’s chambers where they didn’t have to deal with anyone but the two of them.

One of the men whistled at Merlin and he and Arthur both tensed further. Arthur made an odd sound, almost like a low growl, and Merlin gave him a sidelong glance in confusion at the ridiculousness of the idea.

Arthur was bathed in the low light of the candle from the table next to them. His jaw was locked and his eyes had that steely look to them that they got when he was angry. This was usually followed by Merlin getting something thrown at him, so he couldn’t help but feel some apprehension. The twig was still in Arthur’s hair, and the smudge of dirt across his cheek.

“What can I get you, love?” the barmaid’s throaty voice asked, pulling Merlin’s attention away from Arthur.

“Two tankards of mead, please,” Merlin said. The barmaid nodded and turned to fulfill the order swiftly.

“Two? S’one of ‘em for me?” a slurred voice asked loudly. Merlin turned to see a man leaning against the counter. He wore peasant clothing, splattered with stains that were probably long-dried blood, and dark in patches from perspiration. The man’s skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, and his dirty blond hair was an unkempt version of Gwaine’s, perhaps a touch longer. He had a thick beard, and as he parted his chapped lips he revealed that he was missing several teeth. A long scar ran across his face, as if he’d been slashed straight down the side of one cheek. The smell that wafted off of him was that of mead, mud, and manure, mixed with the heavy stench of sweat.

Merlin felt Arthur shift beside him.

“Here you are,” the barmaid said, sliding the drinks to Merlin. Arthur picked them up as Merlin pulled out some money. “No, no, no. On the house,” the barmaid smiled, and it was a little unnerving.

“Thank you,” Arthur said.

“Can’t let a pretty little thing like you buy your own drink,” the barmaid winked at Merlin.

Arthur blinked and looked at Merlin, who was torn between blushing and going pale.

“Oi, you’re married. Leave ‘im to the ones who’ve got no one to warm their beds,” said another drunk.

Before Merlin could respond Arthur was pushing him back to their table, a little more forcefully than was probably necessary.

“Ow!” Merlin said, when Arthur finally stopped pushing and slammed their mead onto the table.

“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur muttered as he sat down and grabbed his mead.

Merlin sat down opposite him and took a sip of his drink. Arthur’s shoulders were tense and he kept looking around as he drank.

“If you’d have listened to me, we wouldn’t be here,” Merlin said.

Arthur glared at him.

“I know you don’t like seeing men act like that, but what were you expecting from a shabby tavern full of drunks?”

“Shut. Up. Merlin.”

“It’s not like they were going to do anything to me. I can defend myself, you know,” Merlin said before taking another gulp. Arthur looked at him like he highly doubted that last statement was true. “Look, all I’m saying is next time your noble morals start acting up and urge you to stop drunken idiots from acting like pigs, just remember that _some_ people don’t need you to.”

Arthur looked at him as if he were an idiot. Merlin didn’t know what he’d done this time, but Arthur clearly was baffled by it, whatever it was. Merlin sighed and drank.

Five minutes of tense silence later, he only had a few mouthfuls of mead left. He pushed his chair back lazily, the scraping sound pulling Arthur’s attention back to him from where he had been watching the drunk men.

“I’m getting more mead,” Arthur muttered suddenly as he stood up.

Merlin raised his empty tankard and wiggled it in request, until Arthur waved him off in understanding and waltzed off.

Left alone at the table, Merlin sighed and wondered if he should have gone with Arthur again. Arthur might need his protection. Really, he shouldn’t leave the King by himself in a place like this. But then again, Arthur was the _best knight in Camelot_. He could definitely take those drunks. Unless they had magic. But then again, if Merlin went and those pigs acted… well like pigs, then Arthur’s morals _would_ act up yet again, and then Merlin would be the one who’d have to deal with the angry King. Which often meant having things thrown at his head, a list of chores for tomorrow that he couldn’t get done in time even with magic, and insults. Lots and lots of insults.

A pissed off Arthur was not one Merlin wanted to deal with.

“Emrys,” a quiet voice said. Merlin was sitting to attention in seconds.

A young man with floppy chestnut hair and matching brown eyes slid into Arthur’s seat. His skin was peppered with freckles and his eyebrows looked too bushy for his face. As he looked at Merlin from underneath his hood, Merlin noticed the telling way he dressed.

Druid.

“I did not expect to see you here,” said the Druid. His gaze went to Arthur and an amused smirk came over his face. “Your King grows impatient.”

Merlin glanced back to see that Arthur was indeed looking rather frustrated with how long the barmaid was taking. Merlin knew the ride back to Camelot was now going to include a pissy Arthur. Great.

“I don’t know why he wouldn’t just let me do it,” Merlin grumbled to himself. The druid laughed. Merlin raised his tankard and tipped the remaining liquid into his mouth.

“He is protective,” the druid said, looking at Arthur with approval. “It is a shame that your story is taking a different path. You are so well suited. Call me a romantic, but I’ve always preferred the story where you two fall in love,” the druid shrugged.

Merlin choked on his mead.

“But of course, that story cannot come to pass given the prophecy,” the druid sighed.

“Did you say love?” Merlin asked, leaning in and lowering his voice in case Arthur suddenly acquired incredibly gifted hearing.

The druid looked perplexed at Merlin’s confusion. “Of course,” he said, and then he shifted his weight in the chair and sighed with a shake of his head. “It would be a wonderful union.” He glanced at Merlin with a saucy smile. “I imagine you and your King would be quite passionate,” he said, and Merlin was too confused to blush. “If it weren’t for that damn prophecy.”

“The prophecy about Albion?” Merlin asked. The druid shook his head, watching Merlin with interest. Merlin huffed in annoyance. “Just how many prophecies are there?” he demanded, and glared at his empty tankard. “Am I supposed to do some other great feat? Is this one with a different king? Am I just going to hop from king to king, fulfilling prophesies left, right and center?” He was partially joking, and partially horrified in case that was the truth.

“Arthur is your only king,” the druid told him. He shrugged. “Many of us wish he would become your lover as well, but that story doesn’t seem to be the one being told. A lot of the others still have hope. I’ve even heard of some druid groups already working on elaborate gifts for your wedding. Terrible shame that it won’t happen. What with Arthur having to die and all.”

Merlin froze.

“Arthur’s going to die?” Merlin asked,  deadpan, ignoring all sorts of emotions and nonsense that surfaced at the idea of his relationship with Arthur being anything other than platonic friendship. That was ridiculous. But Arthur’s death? No matter how ridiculous- sounding the scenario, Merlin always took threats to Arthur’s life seriously. When the druid nodded sadly and shifted once more in his seat, Merlin noticed a strange marking on his wrist that the man had previously kept hidden. This was not just an ordinary druid. He’d been tricked. Merlin’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and he was ready to fight for Arthur right then and there if need be. “Who are you?” he demanded angrily.

“My name is Kayik,” the druid said, and noticing Merlin’s shift in mood he added, “I mean you and your King no harm.”

“Why do you say Arthur will die?”

“I do not,” Kayik said. “The prophecy does.”

“What prophecy? In no prophecy I have heard does it say Arthur will die,” Merlin countered.

“Arthur must die. For Albion.”

“No. I won’t let that happen.”

“It is your story.”

“Well then I’ll change the story!”

The druid laughed, and Merlin felt his magic prickle under his skin as his anger grew.

“Trust me when I tell you, Emrys, that changing your story is far too dangerous. It is far more complex than you can imagine. The kind of magic in that cave is –”

“Magic? Cave?” Merlin asked in confusion, his brow furrowing deeply.

“I’ve said too much already,” Kayik sighed and tried to get up, but Merlin’s hand shot out and held his wrist.

“Please. Tell me. I need to save him.”

“I cannot.”

“At least tell me where you heard this prophecy. I’ll go to them myself. You have my word that you will be kept out of it.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“ _Please_ ,” Merlin begged.

How close was Arthur’s foretold death? If there was a way for him to stop it, he had to try. Even if he had to search the entire kingdom. If he had to search all of the kingdoms, he would.

Kayik eyed him and glanced around the tavern. “Even if I were to go against my vows and tell you, it would do you no good. The danger of this information is in the temptation to use it. Heed my warning, Emrys, chaos comes to those who go there to try and change what fate has decided.”

“So, what? I am expected to do nothing? To let Arthur die?” Merlin asked in anger. “I don’t care how dangerous it is. I can’t let that happen. Please, you must tell me!” Merlin begged. “At least tell me how it is you know of this?”

“I am an apprentice for the Keeper of the Land of Untold Stories,” Kayik replied.

“The Land of Untold Stories?”

Kayik nodded. “I must admit, when I was first chosen to be the next Keeper, I too did not believe it. I thought it to be a fairytale told to children.” Kayik shook his head nostalgically at the innocence of it. He looked Merlin in the eyes. “It is real, and it is dangerous. You must stay away, Emrys.”

“What is this Land of Untold Stories?” Merlin asked. He had never heard Gaius mention it. None of his books had ever even alluded to such a place. Kayik seemed to be under the impression that Merlin had at least heard of it, though.

“Forgive me,” Kayik said, “I forget at times that you were not raised amongst the Druids. The Land of Untold Stories, in the stories the children are told, is a place full of wonder. It is where the story of the world is told. Every person has their own story, and they are all intertwined, but they come together to create one. Those that live there are masters of the waters that hold the future. They often say that is where the seers originated. People from all over would go to receive prophecies about themselves and glimpse the future if they were brave enough.

“Unfortunately, real life is not as simple as a child’s story. Temptation became too much for both visitors and the natives of the land. There were those who would try to change their story. Some would go to any lengths.” The druid looked far off, remembering a history that Merlin had the feeling was darker than was suitable for a child’s bedtime story. “In the end, the city was abandoned. Removing temptation kept the story safe, kept the people safe. Since then it has been the Keeper of the Land of Untold Stories’ duty to assure that it remains abandoned.”

“So there is a way to save Arthur?” Merlin asked. Kayik looked like he wanted to hit him.

“Emrys, were you not listening? It is too dangerous.” Kayik sighed. “I wish it was not so. If I could, I would personally attempt to change the story, but I cannot. As I said before, I wish your and Arthur’s story was taking a different path, but the prophecy is unchangeable.” He looked at Merlin, sadness in his eyes. “Arthur Pendragon will die.” And he said it so absolutely that Merlin felt sick.

Kayik’s eyes left Merlin for a few second, but Merlin didn’t register it as he stared at the dirty table with his emotions a mess. All the information was trying to sink in, but Merlin just couldn’t let it. The idea of Arthur dead, of Arthur dead and Merlin not being able to do anything to stop it, was not something Merlin could process.

“You king returns,” Kayik commented. “I must leave you. Goodbye, Emrys. I apologize for burdening you with this knowledge.”

Kayak slipped away, not waiting for Merlin to speak. Merlin continued to stare at the table. His stomach felt like a lead weight. He could feel his eyes prick with tears and he wasn’t sure if he could hold them back.

“I’m pretty sure that barmaid charged me twice as much just because I wasn’t you,” Arthur said as he placed to tankards of mead onto the table. He sat in his chair, the one that moments ago Kayik had occupied, and sighed before turning his attention to Merlin. “Merlin?” Arthur asked, sounding concerned.

Merlin took in an unsteady breath, his mind replaying the words ‘Arthur Pendragon will die’ like a sick song.

“Merlin!” Arthur leaned forward in alarm, touching Merlin’s shoulder gently as his blue eyes took in Merlin’s glistening eyes. Instantly, Arthur leaned away and looked around the tavern with a scrutinizing gaze, searching for the source of Merlin’s distress. The concern pushed Merlin over the edge and the tears started to flow. “Did someone touch you?!” Arthur asked, shoving the chair back and jumping to a stand. “Merlin, I swear, if someone –“

“Arthur, stop!” Merlin said in a broken voice.

“What happened, Merlin?” Arthur demanded. Merlin didn’t say anything, but tried to wipe away the tears to no avail. “Merlin, I’m ordering you as the king to tell me what happened.”

Arthur was even using his kingly voice, which only made it that much worse. He hadn’t even been king for that long, yet look at how close to Albion they were. If it weren’t for Morgana, they’d be there already. What did that mean for Arthur? Was he that close to death? How long did he have? Five years? One? What if he were to die tomorrow? What if he were to die tonight?

What were they thinking coming to a tavern like this? Arthur could get poisoned! Or killed in a fight with one of those drunken idiots! Or he could catch a disease from the tavern itself! It was certainly dirty enough to have some kind of infectious something or other. Arthur could die right here in this very tavern!

Merlin shoved himself away from the table and looked for the door in the dim light. They needed to leave. The sooner the better. If they waited too long Arthur could die. Even if he didn’t, if they made it out of the tavern too late they’d have to ride back to Camelot in the dark. They didn’t have any knights with them. It was just him and Arthur. What if they were ambushed? What if Merlin wasn’t able to protect him? What if –

“Merlin!” Arthur called, as Merlin started walking to the door.

“I’m fine!” Merlin yelled back, picking up his pace.

When he made it through the door of the tavern, Merlin saw that the sun was setting, and his heart sped up a little more. He ran to the horses and started to ready them. Arthur came running up next to him.

“You are not fine! Tell me what happened.”

Merlin kept working. Arthur’s horse was untied and he tossed the reins to him. Arthur caught them automatically but kept staring at Merlin, waiting for an answer. Merlin started to untie his horse.

“Was it that man that sat at the table?” Arthur asked dangerously.

Merlin froze. The druid. “What?” he asked. He thought Arthur had been busy getting them drinks. When had Arthur become so observant? The only time Arthur was observant was in battle. Not in a tavern after a hunt.

“That man who sat down at the table, in my seat. You talked with him. I saw.”

Merlin mounted his horse and Arthur glared up at him.

“He said something to you, didn’t he?”

“Arthur, it was nothing. Hurry up, we were expected at Camelot hours ago. The king can’t go missing.”

“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur warned, even as he mounted his horse.

“What?” Merlin asked innocently. His eyes darted around, trying to see if there was any danger to Arthur.

“What did he say?” Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “Or do.”

“I knew him. It was fine. Just catching up with an old friend.”

“Do your old friends always upset you this much?” Arthur challenged.

“Er, his mother died,” Merlin said.

Arthur’s whole demeanor changed within seconds. Merlin knew it was a low blow. He could see the sorrow in Arthur’s eyes and the understanding as he thought about his own mother.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Were you close?”

“We used to be,” Merlin lied.

Arthur didn’t say anything else as they rode back to Camelot. Merlin knew he was thinking about his mother from the far off look in Arthur’s eyes. It made Merlin feel awful for putting it there, but he’d had no choice. Too guilt ridden to try to make conversation, Merlin let the silence be. He instead let his thoughts wonder to more useful things, such as where he might find out more about the Land of Untold Stories. Gaius would be his first stop.

 

 

 

 

 

When they arrived in Camelot, Arthur’s mood seemed to lift and the atmosphere was lighter. Merlin was sure Gaius would be able to help him. He’d save Arthur.

Gwen rushed out to meet them as they dismounted. She gave them both a disapproving look.

“You’re late,” she said.

“The king is never late,” Arthur replied. Gwen smacked his arm. Arthur pouted. “It’s Merlin’s fault.”

“You were the one who insisted we get mead in a local tavern!”

“As far as I’m concerned, it’s both of your faults,” Gwen said. She took the hunting prizes from Merlin, pulling a face at the pheasant’s dead eyes. “You’re being waited for in the throne room,” she told Arthur. “And Merlin, Gaius needs you immediately. He said you should have brought back some ingredients?” she prompted.

“Got them right here,” Merlin said, patting his satchel.

“What would we ever do without you, Guinevere?” Arthur said and hugged her to his side in a brotherly fashion as he often did.

“Nothing. You’d be lost. Camelot would fall,” Gwen joked. Arthur smiled brilliantly at her.

“Merlin, once you’re finished with Gaius, I expect you to polish my armor and,” Arthur twirled his hand in the air, “you know, do all your other usual chores.”

Merlin pursed his lips at him as he walked off.

Gwen smiled sweetly and ruffled his hair. “Better get going then.”

“Save me some dinner form the kitchens?” Merlin asked.

“I’m sure you can manage a bite with Gaius.”

“Not if Arthur expects me to get all that work done.”

“Well then, eat with Arthur.” Merlin arched an eyebrow at her. “If Arthur knows you’ve skipped a meal he’ll make you eat.”

“We are talking about _Arthur_ , right? Arthur Pendragon? King of Camelot?” This time Gwen arched her eyebrow. “Arthur doesn’t care if I miss a meal. In fact, he’d probably manage to blame it on me!”

Gwen clucked her tongue at him and Merlin could almost see the gears moving in her head. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to figure out what it was that she was thinking because Gaius was waiting, and so were his chores, and he really was hungry, so he’d like to be able to eat something sometime tonight.

Merlin raced off to Gaius and his chambers, leaving Gwen in the courtyard with the pheasant and the horses. He’d thank her later for taking care of things for him.

“I’m here!” Merlin yelled as he rushed into the room.

“It’s about time! This potion would have been ruined if I’d had to wait any longer.”

Gaius was bent over his workbench, preparing a potion that involved some kind of greyish slime. Merlin walked over and pulled the ingredients he had collected out of his satchel. Gaius glanced at them and nodded in approval.

“Wash them and prep them just like last time,” Gaius instructed.

“Yes, sir,” Merlin replied happily.

“Don’t chop them too finely, Merlin,” Gaius warned.

In no time, Merlin had the ingredients ready and handed them over to Gaius for inspection. The older man deemed them well done and added them to the potion he was making, which was now a light lilac colour.  

Merlin leaned against the workbench, uncertain whether interrupting Gaius’s concentration would ruin the potion or not. He desperately wanted to ask Gaius about what the druid had told him. Gaius poured something into the mixture and stirred quickly for several seconds.

Merlin couldn’t wait.

“Gaius, have you heard of the Land of Untold Stories?” Merlin asked as nonchalantly as he could.

Gaius stopped stirring.

“Is that a yes?”

“Where did you learn of that?” Gaius asked, and he was using his stern, Merlin-what-have-you-done-this-time voice.

“I didn’t learn of it, I was hoping you could teach me about it. I heard the name from a druid today in a tavern. Arthur was getting drinks at the time,” Merlin explained.

“What druid?”

“He said his name was Kayik. He was the apprentice for the Keeper or something.”

“Geadon took on an apprentice?” Gaius asked in surprise. He smiled. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Geadon? Is that the Keeper?” Merlin asked, watching Gaius closely. The old eyes met his and Merlin saw a cautious look enter them.

“No, Merlin.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“I don’t know why this Kayik told you about the Land of Untold Stories, but he shouldn’t have. Whatever ideas you’ve gotten into your head need to be pushed back out.”

“But, Gaius, Kayik said that there’s a prophecy that says Arthur will die,” Merlin said, his earlier feeling of dread coming back full force.

For a moment, Gaius said nothing as several emotions flickered across his face. When he spoke it was quieter and more solemn. “When will this happen?”

“He didn’t say,” Merlin said with a frown. He hadn’t expected Gaius to be so calm. “But I can go to this land, and I can change the path! He told me the story, or a summary of it I suppose. I know that people have changed their paths before, and so it can be done again. I can save Arthur.”

“Out of all of those who succeeded in changing their story, how many do you think managed to change it for the better? To get the ending they wished?” Gaius gave Merlin an expectant look.

“But Gaius – ”

“It is too dangerous, Merlin.”

“I can’t let him die!”

“Then find another way.”

“There is no other way!”

“The Land of Untold Stories is not an option.”

“Why can’t I just try? Just tell me how I get there and let me try! Please!”

“No, Merlin. You will leave this be. I will help you find another way. We’ll read every book we can find if we have to, but we will find another way.”

“That could take months. Months that Arthur doesn’t have! Please, Gaius!” Merlin begged and it wasn’t until his tears hit the workbench that he realized he was crying.

“No.” Gaius said. “I’m sorry, Merlin.” He put his hand on Merlin’s slumped shoulder. “There will be another way.”

Merlin shrugged off his hand, wiped his tears, and left the room without another word. He had chores to do.

 

 

 

 

 

“Merlin!” Arthur’s voice reached Merlin’s ears before Arthur himself entered the room.

Dressed in his favored red shirt and casual breeches, Arthur had clearly been finished with his advisors for some time. Arthur’s eyes searched his chambers until they landed on Merlin stoking the fire. The king sighed and walked over to his table, which was littered with various versions of the same speech.

“Get off the floor, Merlin,” he drawled.

“I’ve just got to finish this,” Merlin said, trying to save the fire.

“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur called.

“Give me a second,” Merlin answered.

A pillow hit Merlin’s head and fell with a thud onto the floor. “Hey!”

“It was a pillow,” Arthur said. “Don’t be such a girl.”

“If that had gone in the fire you’d have blamed me!”

“Shut up, Merlin.”

“Prat.”

“What was that, Merlin?”

“P-R-A-T,’” Merlin clarified.

Arthur threw another pillow at him.

“Clean this up,” he ordered. Merlin sighed and got to his feet.

“Can’t you eat dinner with everyone else? I’ve not got time to fetch your food as well as all my other chores.”

Arthur stared at Merlin blankly.

“Fine!” Merlin huffed.

Merlin shuffled all of the speeches into one pile. He just knew that Arthur would yell at him about it later. He’d say Merlin mixed up some order that he’d put them in or something stupid. Then Merlin would get something else thrown at his head. Stupid royal prat.

Arthur took the neat stack of speeches from Merlin’s hands as Merlin started to clear the rest of the little table.

“Two places, Merlin,” Arthur told him, not looking up from the speech he was skimming.

“Two?”

“Two.”

“Is Gwen coming?”

“No, but you’ve got Gwen to thank.”

“I’m lost.”

“You usually are.”

“Clotpole.”

“Shut up, Merlin.”

Just then a servant girl walked in, a large tray in her hands. Behind her came another servant with another tray. Arthur smiled at them and took his usual seat. Merlin frowned and watched what was happening. One tray was placed in front of Arthur, and one opposite him. A third servant brought wine, and Arthur smiled even wider. The girl pouring it blushed, making Merlin roll his eyes.

Stupid Arthur and his stupid smiles.

“Merlin, sit,” Arthur ordered.

Merlin blinked.

Arthur arched an eyebrow when he didn’t comply.

Skeptical, Merlin cautiously moved to the chair opposite Arthur and sat. The servants revealed their meals and left without a word. Arthur thanked them as they left.

“Eat.”

Merlin, unsure what was happening, picked up a piece of bread and took a bite, eyes on Arthur the whole time.

After about five minutes Arthur leaned back in his chair and glared at Merlin.

“Would you stop that?” Arthur asked.

“What?”

“You’re looking at me as if I’ve sprouted two heads.”

“I don’t know what’s going on.”

“We’re eating dinner.”

“Yes. I know.”

“What’s the problem?”

“We’re eating dinner. Together. In your room. When I have chores to do. For you.”

“We’ve been out all day, Merlin. You were upset today. You haven’t gotten a moment to eat,” Arthur said this all as if it explained everything. Merlin was confused. “You were going to skip dinner. You’re already skinny enough.”

Merlin frowned.

“How did you – ”

“I told you, you’ve got Gwen to thank.”

Merlin pursed his lips. Gwen was going to pay for this.

“So the King of Camelot gets bullied into making sure his manservant gets fed by a common servant girl?”

Arthur laughs.

“You and I both know Gwen isn’t just a _common servant girl_.” Arthur snorted. “I’m telling her you said that,” he told Merlin, and Merlin’s eyes went wide because oh no, no, no. That could not happen. Arthur laughed at his reaction. “See! She’s bloody terrifying.” Arthur drank some of his wine. “Besides, while you’re a terrible manservant, I still can’t have you dying on me from starvation. It would be bad for appearances.”

“Prat,” Merlin muttered. Arthur flung a piece of chicken at him.

They ate in silence for a while. Merlin kept watching Arthur, and thinking about what the druid had said. He worriedly watched every piece of chicken that Arthur ate, ready to jump up and save him if he started choking. Each sip of wine Arthur took was carefully supervised, lest it be poisoned.

Merlin was in the middle of counting the amount of times Arthur chewed each bite (so he’d know something was irregular if Arthur chewed too little or too much), when Arthur suddenly stopped chewing. He was still four chews away from the average he took to eat a piece of chicken the size that he had just eaten. Merlin’s eyes darted up from their focus of Arthur’s mouth to see blue eyes watching him in surprise.

“What’s wrong?” Merlin asked immediately.

Was something wrong with the chicken? Was there glass in it? A blade? Poison? What was it that Arthur was surprised to find in this bite? What had Merlin missed? Was this what the druid meant? Was Arthur Pendragon to die from a single piece of chicken? What if it wasn’t just that piece, but all the chicken on his plate? What if Merlin’s was poisoned too and he died before he could save Arthur from his poisoned chicken?

Arthur stared at him with disturbingly wide eyes.

 

 

“Arthur?!” Merlin urged.

“Nothing,” Arthur said, and his voice was alarmingly high. Arthur cleared his throat, and frowned at his plate.

It _was_ the chicken.

“I, umm…” Arthur trailed off as he stared at his food, trying to make sense of something. Perhaps the chicken’s poison was affecting his mind? “Merlin-“ Arthur started strong, but when his eyes lifted to meet Merlin’s all his strength vanished and he lowered his eyes once again. The chicken must have been heavily dosed.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say it, I know,” Merlin tried to reassure him.

Arthur’s eyes snapped up to him. The mixture of fear and hope had Merlin on the verge of tears. He thought he had more time. Why had nobody warned him earlier? Merlin shoved himself away from the table and stood. Arthur froze in his seat, more fearful, more hopeful. Merlin forced his tears back. He had to save Arthur.

“Stay here!” he ordered, eyes raking down Arthur’s body for any signs of immediate concern.

Arthur’s breathing was becoming more labored. The poison could be targeting his lungs, or his throat. Arthur’s hands were clasped on his lap, and Merlin stared as he noticed the white knuckles. How much pain was he in?

“Stay,” Merlin repeated. “I’ll get Gaius and be right back!”

There was confusion on Arthur’s face, and Merlin worried the poison was beginning to affect his mind more than he’d thought. The faster he could get Gaius, the faster the poison would be identified and the faster they could cure the king. Merlin turned to run out the door but Arthur shot to his feet.

“Mer– ”

“Stay!” Merlin ordered again, moving to push Arthur down in his seat. He loomed over Arthur, staring into his blue eyes firmly and daring him to argue. Arthur was just going to have to take Merlin’s orders and deal with it. Arthur’s wide- eyed look was back as he watched Merlin, and Merlin saw him swallow hard. Dry mouth. Another symptom he could tell Gaius on their way back.

“Merlin,” Arthur said, and his voice was much quieter, and just a bit breathy.

His symptoms were escalating quickly.

Merlin put a reassuring hand on Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur stopped breathing altogether, and all that fear and hope sparked in him once more. Merlin bent down as he slid his hand up to cup Arthur’s face. Arthur’s eyes were darkening, and Merlin couldn’t tell if he was having trouble focusing because of the pain or if he was nearing loss of consciousness.

“Arthur,” Merlin said softly, trying to be as gentle but reassuring as he could. He kept his face close to Arthur’s, making sure he was all Arthur could see so his attention wouldn’t drift. Arthur licked his lips. Dehydration went onto the growing list of symptoms. He _had_ to get Gaius. “Everything will be okay,” Merlin promised.

Arthur seemed to come back to himself, clearly fighting the poison, and Merlin beamed at him. Of course Arthur would be too bloody stubborn to let poison overcome him. Arthur reacted further. He grabbed onto Merlin and pulled at him as he swayed forward. Merlin landed in his lap, and Arthur groaned at the impact, resting his head on Merlin’s chest.

Merlin mentally added dizziness to the list, and a note to check Arthur for sensitivity. Perhaps the poison had caused rawness across his skin? Whatever it was, he hoped Gaius could cure it.

Merlin wiggled himself off Arthur’s lap. Arthur’s breathing was even more labored, and his eyes were squeezed shut in pain. As Merlin fell to his knees before him to get a better look at Arthur’s complexion, Arthur’s eyes opened. They zeroed in on him for only a second and glazed over.

Merlin grabbed Arthur’s thighs, gripping them hard in hopes of the pain pulling him back to consciousness. Arthur was radiating heat. The poison was bringing a fever.

“Arthur!” Merlin said urgently, his voice hoarse with emotion. Arthur’s eyes kept darkening and Merlin knew if he didn’t leave now to get Gaius he might be too late.

“Mer– ”

“I’ll be right back!” Merlin yelled, cutting off whatever fever gibberish Arthur was about to say.

Merlin raced out of the room without a second glance. He ran full speed to his and Gaius’s chambers. The others in the castle jumped out of the way as he pushed past. A trail of whispers started up, and Merlin hopped that some of them would have the good sense to call for the knights. Someone in Camelot who had access to the kitchens was trying to kill the king. And if they heard that Arthur was left alone and dying, they might go to him to ensure that the poison was able to finish the job.

“Merlin?!” Gwen’s voice yelled in alarm.

Merlin didn’t slow down as he yelled back, “Arthur. Chicken. Get Gwaine!”

Merlin’s side was burning as he burst into the room. Gaius was quietly reading, and looked up in surprise before his expression turned grave. Panting, Merlin tried to speak but his body traitorously demanded air first.

“Merlin, what happened?” Gaius asked as he rushed to his side. He started examining Merlin and Merlin let out a frustrated yell. Gaius jumped back. Merlin took in several large gulps of air in defeat. This was wasting time! Time Arthur might not have!

“Arthur!” Merlin finally managed to say. “His chicken must have been poisoned. It’s acting fast. You have to come now!” Merlin said around more gulps of air. Gaius immediately moved to grab his emergency medicine bag and ran out of the room.

Merlin followed, listing all of Arthur’s symptoms.

Gaius couldn’t run as fast, and Merlin struggled with himself. Should he run ahead and make sure Arthur wasn’t even worse? Should he just pick Gaius up and run with him? Would that slow him down to Gaius’s speed and make the whole thing pointless? What if Arthur was passed out on the floor? What if the idiot had tried to go for help and fell down the stairs?

By the time they reached the king’s chambers Merlin’s mind hand supplied every kind of terrible situation and he was panting in fear. Gaius rushed into the room to see Arthur standing by the window in the stance Merlin usually found him when he was thinking hard about some moral issue.

“Sire?” Gaius asked.

Merlin came to an abrupt stop at the table. His eyes darted from Arthur to the window, worried that he’d pass out and fall through it. What was the idiot thinking? He moved forward as Arthur turned around smoothly.

Apparently he was no longer dizzy. He didn’t look in pain. His breathing was normal. His eyes were clear and easily focused as they moved between Merlin and Gaius. He didn’t have a single symptom. Not one.

Gaius turned a raised eyebrow to Merlin.

Arthur’s eyes left Gaius to land on Merlin.

“Merlin?” they both said in unison.

“You– ” Merlin stared at Arthur. Relief and confusion were battling for dominance inside him. “The chicken– ”

“Arthur!” Gwaine’s voice yelled, and the sound of several people running in chainmail grew stronger until Gwaine, Percival, and Leon ran into the room.

“Sire?” Leon asked after a moment of silence as everyone looked at each other.

Just then Gwen came in.

“Merlin, what the hell is going on?” Arthur asked.

Merlin looked around at everyone, glancing at Arthur periodically. Everyone stared back expectantly, and Merlin was _so confused_.

“The chicken!” he yelled in protest.

This got odd looks from all.

“What about the chicken?” Arthur asked in that Merlin-what-are-you-on-about voice he so often used.

Merlin didn’t know what to say. He didn’t understand. He stared at Arthur in shock. Arthur, standing tall with his broad shoulders, his shirt loosely hanging off his muscled body, the deep ‘v’ of the neckline showing a dusting of hair on his perfectly tanned skin, his golden hair glowing from the sunset outside, and his stupid perfect face with his sparkling blue eyes staring at Merlin as if he’d lost his mind.

“Sire, if I may,” Gaius said, turning his attention to Arthur, who reluctantly looked away from Merlin. “I think I can clear up what happened.”

“By all means.” Arthur gestured.

“Merlin believed the chicken was poisoned, and as such ran to get me. On his way he must have alerted the knights and Guinevere.” At Arthur’s incredulous look, Gaius added, “He was only trying to help, Your Highness.”

“I saw Merlin on the way to Gaius, and he told me to get Gwaine and something about the chicken,” Gwen piped up.

Gwaine nodded. “Gwen came running up to me and said that Arthur was in trouble. I got Leon and Percival in case it was some kind of wide scale attack.”

Leon and Percival nodded in agreement.

Arthur moved from the window, and Merlin realized he’d been holding his breath. He walked over to the plate of chicken. He picked up a piece and examined it. Everyone waited with bated breath.

Then Arthur threw the chicken at Merlin.

“Ow!” Merlin said as he rubbed his eye.

“ _Mer_ lin, you _idiot_ ,” Arthur said. “There is nothing wrong with the chicken!”

“But you went all…” Merlin didn’t know what to say, and gestured at the table as he recalled all Arthur’s symptoms. It wasn’t explanation enough, he realized, when he noticed everyone staring at him again. “You were surprised! And scared! And your breathing went all odd! And you were dizzy! And your eyes went all weird! You felt hot! You were dehydrated! You had trouble swallowing!”

Arthur’s expression morphed as Merlin spoke, turning into shock, disbelief, blankness, and then settling into the angry/annoyed look he so often took on around Merlin. The next thing Merlin knew a plate was flying at his head.

“Arthur!” Gwen scolded. Arthur huffed and turned away from them all. His back was rigid with tension.

“Sire?” Gaius asked. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes of course it’s all right!” Arthur bellowed, turning back to face them with a look of deep frustration covering his features. “ _Mer_ lin is just being an idiot, as usual. Causing a panic over nothing! Making people think things when there was _nothing there_!” he yelled.

Everyone was quiet.

“He thought you were dying,” Gwen said.

Arthur said nothing, but from his stance, Merlin could tell he was getting agitated and quickly coming to the end of his tether. Arthur huffed again and his eyes locked with Merlin’s.

“Everyone get out!” he suddenly ordered.

Nobody moved.

“OUT!”

“But, sire – ”

“Arthur– ”

“Your Highness– ”

“My lord– ”

“Princess– ”

Everyone but Merlin protested. Merlin thought Gwaine was pushing it with the nickname, but Arthur just glared at them all and dared them to say one more word of protest.

Slowly they all trickled out, looking to Merlin with an apology, until it was just Merlin and Arthur left in the room.

Arthur didn’t move from the window.

“Out, Merlin,” Arthur said, and his voice sounded tired.

“Arthur-“

“Now.”

Merlin wanted to protest, but Arthur’s tense and closed- off body language told him there wouldn’t be a point. He sighed silently, and made his way from the room. He closed the door and waited to hear what Arthur would do.

The sound of something breaking a few seconds later was the only sound that came from the room for another twenty minutes.

Merlin, confused and worried, made his way back to Gaius and his chambers.

 

 

 

 

 

“Do you want to tell me what all of that was about?” Gaius asked as Merlin closed the door.

“No,” Merlin answered as he made his way to his room. “I don’t know what it was about myself.”

Gaius’s thoughtful hum was the last thing Merlin heard before he flopped down in bed and stared at the ceiling. His chores would remain undone, but then again he wasn’t sure if he still had a job anyway, so what did it matter?

He wished he understood what had happened tonight.

 

 

 

 

 

“Merlin?” Gwen’s voice came from the other side of Merlin’s bedroom door. Merlin tiredly opened his eyes and rubbed the sleep from them as a soft knock came again. “Merlin, are you awake?”

“Yeah,” Merlin replied, stretching widely as he yawned. He got up and opened the door to reveal Gwen with a tray of food.

Merlin eyed it skeptically.

“I brought you lunch,” Gwen said, and moved back to put it down on the table.

“Yeah,” Merlin nodded, his mind still not awake enough to fully process what was happening. He looked around to see the room was empty. “Where’s Gaius?” he asked.

“Not sure,” Gwen said as she arranged the table nicely for him. “I think there’s a break- out of some kind and he’s gone to contain and treat it.”

“Oh,” Merlin moved forward, taking in the bright light in the room and the open shutters. He walked to the table without conscious thought, and frowned at the lively sounds of Camelot drifting in from the window. “What time is it?”

“Oh, I’d say around ten thirty?” Gwen said with a tilt of her head as she got Merlin some water.

“Ten thirty?!” Merlin yelled, jumping up. “Arthur will kill me! I can barely get him up in the mornings – if nobody’s gone to wake him he’ll still be asleep! Which means he’ll have missed his morning training with the knights, his three meetings with his advisors, and is supposed to be getting ready for that lunch with the visiting person from that place!”

“Visiting person from that place?”

“There’s so many and they come so often, I can’t remember all their names and towns,” Merlin complained.

“Well, don’t worry. He’s been to all of them.”

“Is he dressed?” Merlin asked, recalling the time Gaius said he had walked in on Arthur stuck in his shirt when Merlin hadn’t been there to help dress him.

“No, we let the king prance around Camelot naked,” Gwen said casually. She glanced up at Merlin and frowned. “Of course he’s dressed, Merlin!”

“Then why isn’t he in here yelling at me?”

“You’ve got the next couple days off, so Gaius wanted to let you sleep in. He said he could handle today on his own, and asked me to make sure you got fed. If you want something to do, Gaius said you can go to the library and read up about that root you found when you were hunting with Arthur last month. Gaius thinks it’s got a lot of potential to be added to one of his draughts, but he wants to make sure it won’t conflict with any of the other ingredients. I hope you remember the name of it, because Gaius didn’t tell me and I’m rubbish with remembering all those herb names.” Gwen looked up at Merlin from where she was slicing some bread for him.

“I’ve got the day off?” Merlin asked in disbelief.

“Is that all you got from that?” Gwen sighed. “Yes, you’ve got the day off. The next two, actually.”

“Why do I have the day off? Arthur _never_ gives– ”

Merlin’s eyes widened with horror as he realized what it most likely meant. He was being replaced!

“It’s just for the next two days!” Gwen assured him, reading him easily. “Gaius said you were probably over-worked from the trip and your mind was messing with you from lack of proper sleep. Arthur’s doing this to keep you healthy is all. He cares.”

Merlin chewed on a piece of bread.

“So, do I have to repeat all that about the library?”

“No, no. I got it,” Merlin said with a mouthful of bread. Gwen hit him over the head.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full.”

“Sorry. Ow!”

Merlin swallowed quickly before he did it a third time.

“I’d take the day to get better like Gaius said. Arthur looked… frustrated today. Without you.”

“He had nobody to blame or throw things at,” Merlin muttered. “Ow! I didn’t have any food in my mouth!”

“I know. That was for being such a boy,” Gwen said and made her exit.

“I’m a man not a boy!” Merlin called out, puffing his chest out pointlessly. Gwen’s snort of amusement had him deflating, and he picked up the bread and ripped another piece off with his teeth.

He chewed slowly, thinking yesterday over. His thoughts kept going back to the druid’s mention of the Land of Untold Stories. And of his and Gaius’s warning. He drank his water as he thought about Gaius’s words. Merlin had not said that he wouldn’t look into it himself. He could do his own research without Gaius’s help. He could search the library for something on the mysterious land.

Merlin frowned. That would take all day. He smiled. He _did_ have all day.

Grabbing another piece of bread, he shoved it in his mouth and made his way to his room to get ready. He’d do a quick bit of research for Gaius first, and then spend the rest of his time on the Land of Untold Stories.

 

 

 

 

 

Merlin found nothing in the library. His research for Gaius was completed, but he still had as much information on the Land of Untold Stories as he’d had when he walked in. He sighed. Old, dusty books were piled high in several stacks on the desk around him, and his parchment lay completely blank in front of him. There wasn’t a single mention of the stupid land in any of them.

Disheartened, Merlin pulled the last remaining book forward and flipped through the pages. He scanned each page for any mention, his tired eyes traveling over the ink. His hand was numb from its bent positon propping up his head. His shoulders were slumped, and his back ached at the stiffness of his posture, but Merlin couldn’t find the motivation to fix it.

As he flipped to the last page, his eyes closed in defeat. He’d searched all of bloody Camelot’s library and found not a single mention of the damn place. His stomach growled. He wasn’t sure what time it was or even what day.

He hadn’t seen Arthur in far too long and he hurt from it. Arthur, who cared enough to let him rest for two whole days. Arthur, who was so confusing and wonderful. Arthur, who was going to end up dead if Merlin couldn’t find _something_ on this stupid, dangerous land.

In a wave of frustration, Merlin threw the book across the room.

The impact was loud in the empty library. He sighed and leaned forward, resting his head on the table. He just breathed for a while, trying to push the image of Arthur out of his mind.

“Found him!” Gwaine’s voice said, far too loudly for a library.

“Shhhh,” Merlin hushed, keeping his head on the table.

“Princess has been looking for you,” Gwaine said.

“I thought I had the day off,” Merlin pointed out.

“Yes, you did. But only the two,” Gwaine said before he hopped up onto the table with a sigh. He looked down at Merlin as Merlin turned his head to look up. Gwaine flicked his head so his hair brushed over his shoulder. “You’re bordering on day four.”

“Oh.”

“We sent someone down here to look before, but they said they couldn’t find you.” Gwaine looked around at the piles of books. “I reckon you must have been too buried under these for them to have seen you.”

“I’m doing research for Gaius.”

“Is that so? What exactly are you looking for?”

“It doesn’t matter, it isn’t in any records Camelot has,” Merlin muttered bitterly.

“Did you check the banned material?”

“What?”

“All those books about Magic and anything else Uther didn’t like. He had them locked away in a vault. I don’t think anyone’s been assigned to sorting through them yet.” At Merlin’s blank gaze, Gwaine grinned. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

Merlin got up and Gwaine led him to the back of the library.

“Why do you know about it?”

“There are some pretty interesting things in those books,” Gwaine said with a saucy smile. Merlin snorted. “Uther wasn’t exactly open-minded, so there’s all sorts of reading material to be enjoyed. Some leading to more enjoyment than others.”

“Is that your trick then?”

“Why, Merlin, you should know I don’t need tricks! Just fun new experiences is all.”

“Sure,” Merlin grinned, and Gwaine knocked his shoulder into Merlin’s as he laughed.

They ducked behind a large book case and were faced with a large gated section. Merlin could see books through the bars. Gwaine grinned and pulled something sharp from his pocket. The lock on the door clicked open within a few seconds.

Merlin walked in and looked around in awe. There were thousands of books on magic. Some of them he was sure were older than the library itself. His hands skimmed down several of the spines, and he could feel magic thrumming through a few of the books.

“I’ll cover for you with Arthur,” Gwaine said, watching him.

“Thanks, Gwaine,” Merlin replied, picking up a book with an odd-looking symbol on it.

Gwaine’s retreating footsteps sounded as Merlin slowly opened the book. He flipped through the pages and saw magical concepts being laid out in explicit detail. His eyes widened as he looked around. He’d have to get Gaius to convince Arthur to let him have more days off in the future so he could sneak down here and read all of these.

 

 

Merlin placed the book carefully back onto the shelf and moved along. He scanned the spines, unsure of what exactly to look for. It wasn’t like he expected a book with all the information to be sitting conveniently on the shelf for him to find. That would render Kayik pointless as Keeper.

Each book he came across fascinated him. There were some on magic he already knew, but others spoke of things Merlin had no idea were even possible. Some of the words were too foreign for him to pronounce, and more than a few of the books gave Merlin bad feelings.

Merlin was leafing through a book about some kind of magical theory to do with changelings when his magic prickled. He looked up at the book shelf to see dust covered books staring back at him. He frowned, and scanned them. His eyes drifted up until he reached the third shelf from the top. A thin brown book seemed to almost shine out from between the others. Merlin put the book he was holding back and brought the thin brown one down with a flash of gold in his eyes.

The book was light and bound in soft leather. The writing was etched in gold and the pages smelled older than most of the other books, their words faded slightly and the parchment tinted almost too dark to see. Merlin squinted at the cover, unable to make out a title.

He blew on it, but the thick layer of dust didn’t move at all. He brushed his fingers across the cover, making a disgusted sound as his hand came away coated in black. He wiped it on his breeches and brushed his fingers over the cover again. A warm sensation shot through his hand and Merlin almost dropped the book in surprise. He did it again and this time it was a light tingle. The cover shimmered, and Merlin wondered if maybe almost four days of research was making him hallucinate. He blinked and rubbed his eyes but the book still shimmered. Something etched in gold began to be revealed on the cover.

Merlin frowned and brought the book closer to his face to inspect it. It wasn’t a title, but a symbol. A symbol that was identical to the one on Kayik’s arm. Merlin’s eyes widened.

“Merlin!” Arthur’s voice called angrily. Merlin’s head whipped around.

“I only sent him down for a bit of light reading.” Gaius’s voice sounded perplexed.

Merlin’s stomach plummeted. He hadn’t put away any of the books. All the magic books were just lying on the table, for anyone to see! He could trick Gwaine. He could trick Arthur. He couldn’t trick Gaius. One look and Merlin would be watched like a hawk until the day he died.

Merlin shoved the thin brown book under his shirt and ran out of the gated section. He tried to close the door quietly, cringing at the loud creak it gave as it shut. The lock clicked into place and Merlin glanced back into the room longingly before he ran off.

Through the book shelves he could see Arthur, Gaius, and Gwaine walking towards where Merlin had been sitting. Gwaine kept looking around, trying to slow them down by pointing out books of interest. Arthur was getting annoyed. Gaius was suspicious.

Merlin made it back to the table and quickly magicked the books on sorcery back to their shelves. The table was cleared of all but four books, and Merlin reached for the fifth healing book and cracked it open to the page on the Knotweed, the herb Gaius had asked him to research. He was reaching for a piece of parchment when they rounded the corner.

“There you are!” Arthur said as he spotted Merlin between the shelves.

“Sorry, I’ve been researching,” Merlin apologized, aiming for sheepish. Arthur gave him a disapproving look, but his heart wasn’t really in it. Merlin smiled a floppy smile at him and Arthur averted his eyes in favor of scrutinizing Merlin’s handwriting.

“Can you even read that?” he asked, in his usual prattish fashion.

“Yes!”

“See, I told you he was still busy researching, but was fine!” Gwaine said.

“I can see that,” Arthur asked, still judging Merlin’s notes. “It took you four days to get all of this done?” Arthur asked.

“There was a lot of information.”

“That was condensed into a single piece of parchment, from only five books,” Arthur confirmed.

“Yes. It was complicated.”

“I see,” Arthur replied.

Merlin glanced to Gwaine, but it seemed the knight was too busy watching Arthur to see if he would believe Merlin’s story. When Merlin looked at Gaius he saw a single eyebrow arched and he quickly looked to Arthur to avoid it.

“Well, that’s enough research,” Arthur said, and Merlin smiled at having gotten away with his lie. “You’ve got chores to do.” There was a worrying, and extra prattish smile on Arthur’s face now. “Like mucking out the stables!”

Merlin’s smile dropped off his face.

 

 

 

 

 

Covered in horseshit, hay, and dirt, Merlin walked into his and Gaius’s chambers just to have Gaius point to the waiting bath without saying a word. He sighed, and stripped. Gaius was mixing some kind of potion up, and didn’t bother to scold Merlin for dumping his clothes in a pile.

Merlin splashed the water a bit with his hand, and noted that it was cool. He glanced at Gaius, and murmured a spell to heat the water. He stepped into the now steaming water and slowly sank down until his head was under as well.

The warped sounds of Gaius working and the slow movement of the water lulled Merlin into such a relaxed state that he didn’t hear the door open or Arthur walk in. It wasn’t until his lungs gently remind him that breathing was necessary that he came up from the water.

“–at the back,” Arthur finished, as Merlin sat up in the bath.

Gaius was still working on the potion, but he was listening patiently to Arthur. He was frowning in thought, and still didn’t bother to look at Merlin. Arthur, on the other hand, wasn’t fully focused on Gaius. He was looking at Merlin with a sort of blank gaze.

“I believe I have something here to help, Sire,” Gaius said. He looked at his potion and then to Merlin. “Come here, Merlin, and stir this as I get what Arthur needs.”

Merlin sighed. So much for his bath. He held onto the sides and started to push himself up when suddenly Arthur spoke.

“No, I’ll do it,” he told Gaius. “There’s no need for Merlin to get out of his bath. He probably needs it, knowing him.”

Merlin frowned at the prat’s back as Gaius arched an eyebrow at Arthur.

“Sire, while I appreciate the gesture, this is a rather delicate potion and I’d prefer it if Merlin took over. He has been trained properly, you see. Despite not coming off as such.” Gaius turned to give Merlin a look, and Merlin sunk a little lower in the bath.

He wasn’t bad at making the potions. He just tended to get distracted, and that made him make mistakes. And he wouldn’t get distracted if he didn’t have to constantly worry about Arthur.

“No, no. Really, let me,” Arthur insisted. “You said to stir it, right?” Arthur moved to take the stirring rod from Gaius’s hands.

Gaius sighed, and relented. On his way past Merlin, he gave him another look, and Merlin smiled sheepishly back.

As Gaius climbed up to the little balcony to find whatever it was Arthur needed, Merlin watched Arthur from his bath. Arthur’s back was to him, and he was stirring the potion a little too fast. He seemed tense, and Merlin wondered if it was because of the other night. Whatever that had been.

Maybe Gwaine knew.

The potion started steaming, and Merlin tried to look around Arthur’s broad shoulders to see what was happening. The water in the bath sloshed, some of it landing on the floor with a loud splash.

“Careful, Merlin!” Gaius scolded, still searching.

“Sorry!”

Arthur was practically rigid. Merlin’s eyes narrowed as he saw what seemed to be smoke rising from the potion. Arthur kept stirring. Merlin’s eyes darted to Gaius, who was now on a stepping stool, moving things about as he continued to look.

The bath water was starting to cool, and Merlin shivered as a breeze came into the room from the door that Arthur hadn’t closed when he came in. Prat. Merlin shifted in the bath, making the water slosh again.

Arthur was stirring even faster, and there was a distinct hissing sound now. Oh, no. Merlin knew that sound. It usually came before a very loud explosion and a lecture from Gaius. Arthur kept stirring. The hissing got louder.

Sensing the inevitable, Merlin reacted quickly. He got out of the bath, careful not to make a mess, and made his way to Arthur and the potion, dripping onto the floor as he went.

Behind Arthur, Merlin was able to peer over the Royal Prat’s shoulder and see the potion was indeed well on its way to being a complete disaster. Arthur, the idiot, seemed to be in a world of his own and wasn’t even looking at the thing.

“It’ll explode if you’re not careful,” Merlin said.

Arthur practically jumped out of his skin.

As he did so, he knocked the potion over completely, the bowl cracking. The liquid soaked into the several pieces of parchment on the desk beside it, ruining the notes Merlin had taken on Knotsweed as well as Gaius’s own. The glass phial that was awaiting the potion when it was finished fell to the floor and shattered. Merlin jumped back, hands going to his bits for protection.

“Merlin!” Arthur yelled as he spun around. His eyes went wide as he realized Merlin was naked. He spun back around and stepped towards the table to get away from Merlin. He gripped the table and then promptly let go with a gasp as he sliced himself on the broken bowl or ricocheted glass, Merlin wasn’t sure which.

“Sire?” Gaius asked, pausing at the noises.

“There’s been an accident,” Merlin said.

“What kind of accident?” Gaius sighed as he started to descend the stepping stool and make his way back to them.

Arthur steadfastly refused to turn around.

“I think Arthur’s hurt himself,” Merlin said as Gaius took in the mess.

“I take it that the potion didn’t survive?”

“You’ve got Merlin to thank for that,” Arthur stated, and his voice had gone all high again, like the night with the chicken.

“I didn’t do anything!” Merlin protested.

“You sneaked up on me! You don’t sneak up on the king, _Merl_ in!”

“You were going to explode the potion!”

“Well, why didn’t you just tell me that!”

“I did!”

“No, you – ”

“Pardon me, but I don’t think it’ll do any good arguing over who is to blame,” Gaius interrupted. Merlin and Arthur stopped arguing. “Now, Merlin can clean this up while I tend to Arthur, and then I’ll find that phial for you, Sire.”

“Fine,” Merlin sighed. He grabbed the nearby dustpan and bent down to sweep up the glass before he stepped on it. At least Arthur and Gaius had shoes on.

“Put some clothes on!” Arthur yelled, and Merlin looked up to see Arthur averting his eyes. He rolled his own. Arthur was such a prude sometimes. Especially considering the amount of times he’d been naked in front of Merlin.

“I’ll be right back, then,” Merlin said, placing the dustpan on the table. “My lord,” he added sarcastically, bowing to Arthur’s back and making his way to his room for a change of clothes.

Merlin threw on one of his usual outfits: a pair of breeches, shoes, a purple shirt, a belt, and his red neckerchief. When he came out of his room he saw Gaius handing a phial to Arthur. As he closed his door, their eyes both went to him, and Arthur almost seemed to be blushing. He quickly stuffed the phial in his pocket and mumbled something (probably a thank you, because Gaius got those, unlike Merlin) before he left.

“What was that?”

“Mind your own business,” Gaius said, and started preparing the potion again.

“Arthur is my business,” Merlin argued.

Gaius hummed, and started chopping something up. “Clean the rest of this up, Merlin,” he told him.

Merlin frowned but did as he was told.

They worked in silence for a while, Merlin trying to figure out why Arthur had been there in the first place. The phial was tinted, so he didn’t even have a clue in the potion’s colour. He tried to think of why Arthur might need something.

Training? He might have strained a muscle. Mild illness? Merlin paused mid-sweep. He’d not been at Arthur’s side for almost four days. What if he’d gotten ill? What if it morphed into something far more serious? Something that might _kill him_. Sure, now it seemed fine, but what if in a few days he was dead?

“Gaius, I know you won’t tell me what exactly Arthur needed, but you’d tell me if he was sick, right?”

Gaius raised an eyebrow at Merlin. But at Merlin’s expression he simple sighed and answered with an, “Of course.”

“And to be clear, he isn’t sick?”

“Arthur is perfectly fine,” Gaius assured him.

“Good.”

They continued to work in silence for several minutes more. When Merlin had finished sweeping, he watched Gaius for a few moments. He couldn’t stop himself from trying again.

“So what was in – ”

“Merlin,” Gaius warned.

“Why can’t I know?”

“It’s private.”

“But it’s Arthur!”

“Just because you two share a destiny doesn’t mean you get to know everything about him,” Gaius said.

“I have to! For his own good.”

“Is that all it is?”

“Of course.”

Merlin was given the eyebrow again.

“I’ve got to keep him safe.”

“I know you do, but that doesn’t mean Arthur isn’t allowed some modicum of privacy.”

“What if whatever it is, is important to keeping him safe?”

“It’s not.”

“How do I know if you won’t tell me?”

“I know it’s not, and I’m telling you it’s not. Now be quiet and go to bed.”

Feeling like a small child being sent to his room, Merlin sulked off to bed. Gaius’s eyebrow followed his progress. When Merlin passed the bath, a cough sounded from Gaius. Merlin turned to see Gaius gesture to his clothes, which were still in a pile on the floor. He picked them up and walked into his room.

Gaius went back to what he was doing as Merlin closed his door.

Merlin dumped his clothes in a pile in the corner and flopped down onto his bed. He sighed as he stared at the ceiling, his thoughts, as usual, on Arthur. Annoyed about being left in the dark, Merlin decided to distract himself and do something productive to help Arthur, despite not knowing what that phial was. He picked up the slim brown book he’d hidden under his pillow, and brushed his thumb across the cover.

The golden symbol revealed itself and Merlin held his breath as he finally opened the book. There wasn’t much written inside, but Merlin would take anything at this point. He flipped through the pages to get a better idea of how long a read it would be. He figured he could read it all tonight, if he didn’t mind not getting much sleep again.

He sighed.

It wouldn’t be the first time he gave up sleep for Arthur.

Merlin started reading. When Gaius went to bed, he put out the candle, and used his magic to provide just enough light to read.

Most of the book read like a story told to children. Merlin guessed this was what Kayik had been referring to. He also worried that was all it would be. Just different takes on the same idealized story for children to hear. By the time he reached the last chapter, Merlin was once again disheartened.

The final chapter spoke of the Keeper. It listed the duties and responsibilities that the Keeper had, and how they were to go about each one. It discussed the ethical issues and hardships a Keeper faced. It even discussed the process of choosing the next Keeper. It all sounded tedious. He wondered why Uther had this locked away if it didn’t have any useful information in it.

Then, on the last page, Merlin found a slip of paper tucked away. He opened it up to see the name of a place, the number fourteen, and a spell. Merlin laughed. They could have just burned the paper. Merlin smiled at the slip, thankful that they hadn’t.

He tucked the book back under his pillow and settled down to sleep. Tomorrow he’d figure out what it all meant. At least he had a plan now.

 

 

 

 

 

Arthur was in one of his moods. Absolutely nothing was right for him, and he demanded Merlin was with him wherever he was. Merlin was dragged to meeting after meeting. He had to listen to the people who sought their king’s help for various problems, some of which were ridiculously small to be bothering the king about. What Arthur had to do with which woman was allowed which bigger half of the bread they had co-baked, Merlin had no idea. Wasn’t it stale by then?

Arthur, however, took it all very seriously. He listened intently to each word that was spoken, be it from his advisors in a vital council session, or a woman arguing for a bigger half of stale bread. Arthur treated everything those around him had to say with importance and validity, and gave a thoughtful reply. It was times like these that Merlin saw how great a king Arthur was, and for once the looming destiny they shared seemed so simple. If anybody could unite the five kingdoms and bring peace to Albion, it was Arthur.

Merlin stood behind the throne, listening to a burly man tell Arthur his troubles, and watched Arthur closely. He noted the way Arthur sat confidently on the throne. Not arrogant, but certain. How he didn’t slouch or lean on one side. Merlin almost laughed. Even his body language was attentive and respectful.

Every so often, Arthur would shift and his finger would play with his lip as he thought. Merlin figured out a pattern. When there was an issue Arthur found generally challenging to settle, regardless of how trivial it was, his fingers would go to his lips. When Arthur had to make a decision that was fair but not satisfactory (read: Arthur couldn’t please both parties at the same time), he shifted himself side to side before his head would tilt the slightest bit to the right.

Merlin found all this entertaining enough that he didn’t go insane with boredom as the day dragged on. Of course, that didn’t mean he didn’t try to slip away at every opportunity. He wanted to get to the library again and figure out what the name, numbers, and spell on that paper meant. He had the paper in his pocket, and he fingered it throughout the day, hoping for the moment when the trials he was being forced to withstand would come to an end and Arthur would let him go.

Arthur, however, was far more alert than he usually was.

Every time Merlin tried to slip away, Arthur caught him. In council meeting number three there had been a pause for lunch, and it got a bit hectic as everyone made their way to the hall for food, still discussing strategy for how to deal with the visiting nobles from a neighboring kingdom in a month’s time. Merlin had seen the perfect moment to escape. He was just about to nonchalantly turn down the corridor and disappear as they made their way to the hall, when Arthur had grabbed him by the shoulder and claimed an urgent need for Merlin to serve just him throughout lunch as the other servants would be far too busy with the council members.

There were six members. Merlin wasn’t even sure of the number of servants in the castle, but it was definitely more than six! Merlin, of course, didn’t say this. He also didn’t mention that not one servant would even dream of ignoring the king in favor of any of those council members. It was ridiculous.

Arthur, however, as he was in one of his moods, would not budge on the matter, so Merlin knew there was no point in arguing. He stayed through lunch, and Arthur even let him sneak a cup of wine.

“Sire,” a knight said, bringing Merlin back to the present. Merlin noticed that there were no more subjects waiting to get help from their king. The knight stood in front of Arthur, who was downing a glass of water. “I’ve had news from Sir Lancelot that there’s been trouble with the border patrol.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“I do not know, my lord,” he replied. “Sir Lancelot is waiting in the armory for Sir Percival and Sir Leon. They intend to gather a larger party to go there now and check it.”

Arthur sighed. “Right, well, get my horse ready. I’m going with them.”

“Sire, you have another – ”

“I know what my schedule is,” Arthur said, turning to the advisor to his left. “If I don’t get out of this castle soon I’ll go insane. Reschedule the meetings for another time. I’m going.” The advisor bowed and left to make arrangements. Arthur dismissed the knight and started walking towards the door.

Merlin sighed. There was no way he’d get to the library now. And considering that Arthur hadn’t ordered Merlin’s horse be readied, that meant he’d have to rush to get Arthur ready and get his own horse prepared. Not to mention Arthur would probably want a bath when he returned, considering how hot it was outside. Merlin started to follow slowly behind Arthur, who was almost out the door.

“Merlin,” Arthur said.

“Yes?”

“You’re staying here.”

Merlin blinked.

“But Arthur – ”

“Don’t argue with me, Merlin. Or I’ll throw you in the stocks,” Arthur threatened.

“Yes, _sire_ ,” Merlin said.

Arthur’s audible sigh over Merlin’s sarcasm could be heard from down the hall. Some of the newer servants in the castle who had seen the exchange looked scandalized, their eyes darting between Merlin and the king.

Merlin had the childish impulse to stick his tongue out at them. Instead, he followed Arthur to his chambers and helped him into his armor.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?” Merlin asked Arthur, as the young king mounted his horse.

Gwaine grinned from atop his own mount. “How sweet,” he said, squinting in the sunlight. “He’s worried.”

“Shut up, Gwaine,” Arthur ordered lightly.

“We can expect you before dinner?” Gwen asked.

“Of course,” Arthur answered.

“Not even married and still tied down,” Gwaine joked.

“Shut up, Gwaine,” the other knights, Arthur, Merlin, and Gwen said in unison. Gwaine grinned at them all.

Gwen smiled and shook her head. Her eyes met Lancelot and she blushed, turning her focus to Arthur’s horse. She petted its side affectionately. Arthur’s eyes were on Merlin when he finally answered.

“I am King of Camelot, and a knight who has been trained to kill since birth. I am capable of surviving without you,” he said. Merlin held his tongue, but just barely.

Without another word, Arthur nodded to Gwen and started riding out. The others followed close behind, Gwaine winking at them as he rode by.

Merlin watched worriedly as Arthur disappeared.

“He’ll be fine. He always is,” Gwen said.

Merlin still worried anyway.

“I just don’t know why he didn’t want me with him. He hasn’t let me leave his side all day. Why now?”

“He doesn’t know how dangerous it’ll be,” Gwen shrugged. “He probably doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Then what about every other time he’s put me in danger?” Merlin asked in disbelief, making Gwen laugh.

“He would never put you in any real danger.”

“Oh, so I just made up the time with the berries?”

“You won’t let that one go will you?” At Merlin’s expression, Gwen sighed. “I’ll rephrase. He would never put you in a dangerous situation that he couldn’t save you from.”

“What was he going to do if those things started eating me?”

“Merlin, go enjoy your half a day off,” Gwen said, making her way back inside.

Merlin smiled at the realization. Half a day off. He was certain all this time off was going to come back and bite him. Things were going far too nicely, but he didn’t care. He set off for the library once more.

 

 

 

 

 

Camelot’s library had far too many maps in Merlin’s opinion. It took him three hours to find the right one. He found the place on the map, which corresponded with a the Darkling Woods just outside of the city. It wasn’t too long a journey, an hour maybe on foot. He figured he might be able to make it back before Arthur returned.

He couldn’t find any way to figure out what the number meant. The spell was the same. But, with at least a location and a map of how to get there, Merlin was happy.

He left a note for Gaius with an excuse of scouting for herbs, and grabbed some supplies from his room before he headed out.

Camelot was alive with energy in the warm sunlight. Street vendors lined the main roads, pushing their goods on anyone who walked by. Their charming smiles and confident sales talk shone like the sun on their jewellery. Several tried to convince Merlin to buy something, one of them almost succeeding.

To be fair, it was a _really_ nice neckerchief.

Merlin smiled as he shook his head and walked through the crowded streets, waving to some of the other servants he saw about. His bag was slung across his body, the brown book tucked neatly away inside along with the map. Merlin wondered what he’d find, and just the hope that he could save Arthur was enough for him to keep his spirit up.

As Merlin got closer to the out skirts of the city, he felt his hopes rising with every step.  He carefully kept himself from wondering what Arthur was doing, and worrying if he was okay.

He had managed to keep Arthur from his mind for all of an hour when he arrived at the edge of the forest, and doubt started to cloud his thoughts.

He hesitated at the grassy edge, debating between seeking Arthur out and continuing on. On one hand, Arthur might be in danger at that very moment and Merlin wouldn’t be there to save him. On the other hand, Merlin had the chance to save Arthur from that prophecy for good. Merlin knew the sensible thing was to go into the forest, but he couldn’t convince his emotions to listen to reason.

Merlin got the map out of his bag, and traced the path he would have to take with his finger. It would take another half hour to get there, if Merlin picked up his pace. Looking up at the trees, Merlin worked to force himself forward. He’d see Arthur later, but he could save Arthur now.

Once inside the forest, Merlin sighed with relief from the shade the trees provided. There wasn’t a path to follow, so Merlin found himself having to push through bushes and jump over fallen trees quite a bit. He managed to use his magic to cut a path in a thick patch of shrubbery, but even so, he ended up with a number of scrapes and scratches as he went on.

It took a further twenty minutes past the initial half hour it should have taken him to find the spot for Merlin to admit he was lost. He pulled the map out of his bag and tried to trace the path he had taken in the forest.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Merlin muttered to himself as he eyed the map.

He looked up and slowly turned around on the spot, taking in the dense forest around him. Every direction looked the same. He frowned and looked back at the map. It very clearly showed that he ought to have arrived at his destination. However, considering Merlin had spent the past twenty minutes wandering around the same patch of forest and finding absolutely nothing, he wasn’t so sure.

He pulled the brown book out and flipped to the last page, pulling out the piece of paper he had tucked back inside it. He stared at the number written on the paper, and glanced around himself. Maybe it was a marking? On a tree perhaps?

Merlin inspected several trees and found nothing but rough bark and some ants. He checked the ground, wondering if there might be some kind of writing engraved into a rock or something. Again, nothing.

Finally, Merlin walked back the way he had come, and glanced around to see if that gave him a different perspective. There were no numbers that he could see, and there wasn’t any magical sign anywhere either. Merlin sighed loudly and pulled out the piece of paper again, staring at the number.

What could fourteen mean?

Paces?

Merlin cocked an eyebrow. At this point it was worth a try. He took one step forward and paused. What if the person who had written this had really small legs and took tiny steps? Merlin stepped back again, and stepped forward the slightest amount. He paused again. What if the person who had written this had really long legs and took huge steps? He stepped back once more, and took a large lunge forward. He paused. If he had extremely large or small steps, and he had to write directions, he’d take that into account and try to convert his steps into the average step size. Merlin took a large lunge backwards, and tried again, this time taking a normal step forward.

Right. Thirteen more to go.

Merlin was careful to take the same size steps, eyes focused on the ground and his feet. Two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, and four –

“Ow!” Merlin yelped as his head smacked into something hard.

He looked up to see nothing. Not even trees. Merlin put his hand out, and it came into cool contact with a solid and invisible wall. He slid his hand across the barrier, then up and down it. The surface was rough, and as he moved his hand to the right, it got cooler.

Merlin muttered a revealing spell, but the wall stayed invisible. Huffing out a breath, he stepped back. With one hand stretched out to maintain contact, Merlin walked right, feeling the coolness increase with each step and sensing a curve to the wall under his fingers.

Soon, Merlin had to step forward to keep his hand on the wall. He followed it forward, watching his surroundings for any change. As Merlin took another step, a wave of cold washed over him, making his eyes close and his body shiver at the magic engulfing his body.

When his eyes opened, Merlin’s eyebrows shot up as he took in the revealed cave – for a cave was what it was. The grass from the forest lined the inside like a soft rug, bright green and flourishing. The cave walls were dark and cool, and the sunlight from outside wasn’t enough to light up the way. Merlin conjured a ball of light, much like he had done for Arthur, and sent it forward before him.

The cave itself wasn’t too deep. It had thick, short rocks, looking like chunks of a boulder, placed oddly around it, and smaller pebbles in the center. Merlin cautiously walked forward, stopping in the middle of the cave and looking around at the oddly patterned gravel on the ground.

The book had not mentioned this.

Merlin noticed an oval shape of grass discolored and outlined in shiny white pebbles. Merlin figured it was as good a sign as anything and walked over to it. He stuck one hand out, testing the air above the oval for any sort of magic sensor. Nothing happened. Merlin dared to put one foot in. Still, nothing happened.

He stepped into the oval.

Nothing happened.

“Come on!” Merlin sighed in frustration. He glanced around the cave, trying to spot something that he might have missed. He could see nothing but a series of other ovals. Merlin frowned, and went to inspect the m.

Each oval was exactly like the last. They were evenly spaced and made a small circle around the middle of the cave. The middle itself had no oval. Merlin knelt on the grass and tried to feel for something in the ground, but there was nothing but uneven bumps in the dirt.

He looked at the piece of paper as he went back to the oval he had tested before. The spell was his best bet, but it all felt a little too easy. Merlin sighed, and glanced outside the cave. The sun was still shining brightly, but it wouldn’t be for much longer. If Merlin wanted to get back before Arthur, he had to leave soon.

Merlin tried the spell.

Nothing happened.

Merlin tried pronouncing the spell again, emphasizing different syllables. Nothing happened. Frustration mounting, Merlin searched through the little brown book for something more. He found, as he feared, nothing.

Losing his patience, Merlin tried the spell one more time, with yet again another pronunciation. Yet again, nothing happened. Maybe he should just go back to Camelot.

A small voice in his head reminded him of why he couldn’t give up. Guilt, fear, and misery swirled in Merlin’s chest as he thought about Arthur’s impending doom. About never being able to hear Arthur’s arrogant voice ordering him around, or see Arthur’s prattish smile as he got Merlin to wear that ridiculous livery, or receive that blinding smile of pride when Merlin did something good. A world without these things was a world that Merlin wasn’t sure he wanted to exist.

Merlin said the spell one more time, his voice catching in the middle as his chest constricted at the mere idea of Arthur ’s death.

A brightness unlike any Merlin had ever experienced enveloped him. It was a blinding whiteness, that warmed his skin and spread through his body like good mead. He felt the Land of Untold Stories before he saw it: the warm breeze ruffling his hair, the smell of the earth on a warm day, and the hot sun against his skin.

The light dissipated within a few seconds, leaving Merlin to blink rapidly to clear his vision. It seemed that he was standing on a hill before a city, like nothing he had ever seen.

The land was shaped almost like a horseshoe, with the opening facing left, and in that opening flowed a river so deeply blue it reminded Merlin of Arthur’s eyes. The strip of land closest to Merlin was packed tightly with odd buildings. Some were wooden, others brick, and a few of them Merlin made from an unknown material that shined like brass, but looked rough as brick. They were all odd shapes, and some had large cylinders on top of them, like chimneys in the shape of inverted funnels. There were roads, but they almost looked like canyons carved between the homes and buildings. Every so often, trees sprouted up in the gaps. Merlin had thought that Camelot was packed tightly together, but this was beyond anything he thought possible. What looked like stores or factories were built almost on top of houses and buildings as tall as towers. Rising above a majority of the small houses surrounding it, the wheel of a mill stayed unmoving. There was an odd combination of new and old that somehow melded into each other. It both contrasted with and complemented the surroundings all at the same time.

In the curve of the land, the buildings grew taller, and tighter. The sun was setting here, and it shrouded much of the far part of the land from view. The strip of land opposite the river bulged out with a large forest growing up the slope. The land was all hills and cliffs, and like the rest of it, there was no space left unused. Buildings went right up to cliff-sides, and some were scattered about the cliffs themselves, balancing precariously in the rock. The hillside where the forest grew gave way to a winding path walled by towers and forts.

What struck Merlin with awe, however, was a castle sitting above an archway. The castle stretched across a natural archway connecting the tops of the two cliffs, and wound down towards the river. There was a single tower under the archway that glinted in the sunset. It was, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful views Merlin had ever seen.

Without anything else to go on, Merlin decided to go with his instincts and head for the castle. He wasn’t sure how long it would take to get there, but something told him he wasn’t going to get back to Camelot before Arthur.

As Merlin walked through the streets, the wonder of the city started to transform into an eerie feeling. It wasn’t that it was deserted; Kayik had already told him as much. What creeped Merlin out was the urgency with which it had been abandoned. There were wooden carts set up with street goods still out, tables holding plates with half-finished meals, chairs knocked over, windows still open, a whole city of living interrupted in a split second. Everything was perfectly preserved, as if it was waiting for the inhabitants to come back and pick up life where they had left off.

Merlin got to the river to see a boat slowly drifting from its mooring, but being tugged back by the rope when it got too far. Merlin untied it and pulled on the rope until the boat knocked against the dock. He hopped inside, setting his bag on the floor between his feet and grabbed the oars.

He glanced at the castle on the arch, and then to the river. It was quite the row. Merlin’s eyes flashed gold and the boat jolted into motion, sending Merlin forward. He caught himself just in time to avoid knocking his head on the seat in front of him as the boat began to move forward.

The breeze was cooler on the river, and the sun was almost fully dipped below the horizon. The red glow across the blue waters distorted the castle’s reflection, tinting it as though dipped in fire. Merlin’s lip quirked into a small smile as he thought about how much Gwen would appreciate the view. He wondered what Arthur would say, and imagined how his Royal Prat-ness would look with his golden hair glinting in the red light.

Merlin leaned over the boat and cast an illusion to see Arthur in the water. The red light from the setting sun broke across Arthur’s armored torso, glinting off the chainmail, and giving way to deep orange spanning his shoulders and up his neck, melding into rich yellow by the time it got to the end of his hair. He was, as Merlin predicted, breathtaking to look at in this light. With a floppy grin, Merlin encouraged the illusion to bring out Arthur’s eyes.

He might be a prat, but he was a gorgeous prat.

It was a wonder that Arthur was still unmarried with looks like that. Merlin had met royalty and other nobles with far more arrogance than Arthur sometimes displayed, and even they managed to find someone to care for them. Not a single one was as handsome as Arthur, either.

Gwen had been promising, at one point. Merlin had thought that Arthur was starting to fall for her, but nothing ever came of it. Arthur had been disgusted at the suggestion when Merlin had asked him about the possible match. He loved Gwen, but like family. Gwen, on the other hand, admitted to once upon a time having a slight thing for Arthur, but that was when he was still the untouchable prince. Once she got to know him he morphed into an elder brother sort of figure, which stopped her fancying him right away. It was all a bit disappointing. Merlin wanted Arthur to be happy, and to have someone he loved, someone who loved him. As Arthur himself had said, he seemed doomed to be a bachelor forever.

Merlin sighed at Arthur’s reflection, and the reflection had the cheek to wink back. A grin broke out on Merlin’s face.

The boat knocked gently into a dock, and Merlin instinctively glanced up to see that he’d arrived. When he looked back at the water, Arthur was gone. He smiled sadly, jumped out of the boat with his bag, and tied the boat up to the dock with magic.

Merlin walked towards the winding walls that lead up to the castle on the cliff. The houses here were larger, and decorated with detailed molding. There were odd metal structures high above that disappeared above the forest. Walking past the first fort, he noticed a building simply labelled ‘incline’ and he entered out of sheer curiosity.

Inside, Merlin saw a long marble desk and a roped- off section that wound towards it. There was a box on the counter, and a large machine behind it with a thick handle. Merlin opened the box and saw some gold coins. He closed it and cranked the handle.

A piece of paper emerged from a slot. A ticket. He pulled it out, and the machine made a high-pitched ringing noise. Merlin turned it over in his hand.

_Incline – One Round Trip Ticket_.

Merlin glanced to the box on the desk. There was a piece of parchment beside it with prices written on it. Merlin glanced around the empty room, and back to the box. He pulled a small coin purse from his bag and took out a couple coins. It wasn’t much, not nearly close to the price on the parchment, but it was all he could afford. He placed the coins in the box and shut the lid.

Turning, he saw another sectioned area to the right of the desk that led to a large wooden door.

Merlin made his way over, ticket in hand, and pulled the door open. He found himself outside on a platform. There was a large machine of sorts to his right, and a long row of seats to his left. Opposite a gap was another platform, but what interested Merlin was the large glassy orb that hung above the gap.

The orb had a door, and, curious, Merlin wandered over to it. He opened the door, which gave a crisp popping sound, and peered inside to see sleek surfaces made of glass that Merlin could only guess were intended as seats. He cautiously stepped inside, half expecting the entire thing to drop to the ground and shatter.

Nothing of the sort happened, and feeling a bit in awe, Merlin stepped fully inside. He sat down on the sleek surface, and rested his bag beside him. There were about eight seats total, and a little metal tower sat in the middle with a slot on top.

Merlin slipped held his ticket over it. It was a perfect fit. He put the ticket inside, and jumped back when the tower sucked it in and the door suddenly popped shut. Merlin panicked and ran to it, trying to pull it open, but it wouldn’t budge.

The orb moved with a rough jerk, causing Merlin to crash into the wall with a thud. He looked down to see the ground going by below him at an alarming rate. Merlin stared, wide-eyed, as the orb went up the funny metal ropes, hauling him higher and higher above the city.

He scrambled up and back to his seat, looking around. The glass allowed him to see the land below him, stretching out to the horizon. It was mesmerizing to watch. Merlin was so caught up in noticing as many details as possible that he didn’t realize the orb was approaching the top of the cliff until it jerked to a stop, almost throwing him against the wall again.

The door popped open once again, and Merlin stood, grabbing his bag before stepping out of the transportation orb.

The first thing he heard was the rushing of water. The orb had let him out on top of the cliff, on another little platform with a roof over top, but no walls. He walked across to a wide set of stairs, descending quickly as he glanced around at his surroundings.

A cobblestone path trailed in front of him, slicing a neatly cared- for field in half. Further down the path, Merlin could see a grand entrance to a white castle. Two gently waving flags that carried the same symbol as Kayik’s tattoo hung either side of the large wooden door, like a salute to those coming into the castle.

The castle itself reminded Merlin of Camelot in some ways, but it had distinct features that differed from it in others. The towers, for one, were winding, like someone had pulled them up from the ground and twisted them. The moldings were softer, and more curved. There were large windows that seemed to spread over four of five floors in one pane. The castle stretched thin in some areas, like a long, low rectangle, with many smaller windows lined down the side. The white brick shone in the last rays of the sun, catching orange highlights and reflections across its surface.

Merlin entered the castle and felt a cool chill in the air. It was loud with silence, and Merlin became hyper aware of the sound of each breath he took and thud of his heart. His footsteps were almost offensive with the noise they made, making Merlin feel like he was defiling the peaceful castle with his presence. He felt a prickle of awareness down his spine as the absolute abandonment of this entire land entered his mind. It felt wrong to be there. He couldn’t shake the feeling, and it urged him strongly to walk back out and go back to Camelot. Back to Arthur.

The quick reminder of Arthur put his thoughts at rest, however, and with his mind refocused on assuring Arthur’s survival, Merlin walked further in the castle.

The hall held nothing inside but the same white stone. There were archways into other rooms, which hinted at having been lived in. One such room had a long row of chairs, facing a single large chair that reminded Merlin of a throne. The throne had a single table in front of it where a light green tea cup lay knocked on its side, looking as if it might fall off at any minute.

Merlin turned a corner and found himself faced with that same long stretch of castle that he’d seen outside. It was completely empty, with not even a chair to sit in. Merlin felt like he wasn’t getting anywhere, no matter how far he walked. He wondered if it was some kind of magical trap, where he’d be stuck walking down the hall forever.

A beam of light distracted him from his thoughts, blinding him for a moment. He stopped and turned to see a long window that looked out over the city. This part of the hallway sat atop the natural archway in the land, allowing Merlin to view the city below and the city on the opposite side at the same time. The river between them glinted, and Merlin followed its flowing waters up until he found a waterfall. Hidden in a corner of the cliff, a rushing waterfall flowed from within the rock. It turned and twisted like a braid as it went down and into the river. Merlin stared.

It was undeniably a beautiful view, fit for the beautiful castle.

He reluctantly moved away, and walked further down the hall until he felt the whip of a cold draft freeze him to the bone. He turned to see a door made of the same white brick as the walls standing ajar. Merlin shifted his bag further up on his shoulder and pulled the door open a little bit more.

Inside was a staircase, but unlike the rest of the castle it was not made of white stone. The grey rock reminded Merlin of the cave he had come though to get here. He stepped inside, leaving the door wide open lest it close and trap him. He magicked up a ball of light to see what was ahead, and walked down the steep spiral staircase, cautiously taking one step at a time.

It seemed to take forever to walk down all the stairs. Merlin wondered if he was going to come out below the archway, but when he reached the bottom he found himself in another hall. The grey rock walls were smooth at first, but as he ventured further down the hall they became rougher, and the cut of the hall became less rectangular and more oval.

Finally, Merlin stepped into a cave that was beyond anything his magic had prepared him for.

The cave was filled with streams of liquid, which burst from the walls before disappearing back inside at another spot in the cave. The liquids were all going at varying speeds, some moving slowly forward (at least Merlin assumed they were moving forward) and others rushing forward like they were trying to win a race. They wove in and out of each other, intersecting at some areas, diverting in others. They looped around pillars within the cave and missed other streams by a fraction of a hair. There were billions of them, and Merlin found himself so overwhelmed that he took a step back without thinking.

In the center of the room sat a large basin carved from rock.

 

 

Merlin wondered how he’d get to it with all the streams in the way. He wasn’t sure he wanted to touch them, in case the liquid was toxic. The shimmering fluid seemed to glow, radiating a golden light. It was beautiful, but Merlin figured glowing magical liquid shouldn’t go on one’s neckerchief, let alone one’s skin.

Trying to think of a solution, Merlin took a couple of steps forward to see if he could find a path. To his surprise, the cave instantly reacted. A majority of the streams disappeared, leaving about forty or so still flowing.

Merlin walked further into the cave and looked around. The streams shimmered less brightly now, and they all flowed in a slow but steady path. Merlin approached a stream, and peered at the liquid with interest. There was nothing about these in his little brown book.

He moved over to the basin, which now had a path leading up to it. The bowl was bone dry and shallower than Merlin had thought it would be. It had the same symbol drawn in the middle, and a finely etched pattern of swirling lines bordered the lip, forming words from the old religion that spelled out a message about understanding and accepting destiny, while simultaneously being brave enough to create your own. It was poetic, but unhelpful.

Underneath the basin was a small indentation, with two single shelves inside it. On the shelves were tiny phials, tinted deep reds, greens, and blues. He picked one up and examined it. It didn’t feel magical. It certainly didn’t contain anything, which Merlin made sure of by turning it upside down and shaking it twice, hard. Nothing came out.

Merlin placed the bottle back on the shelf.

He turned to a nearby stream that was looping across the cave, with another stream cutting through the centre. He watched as part of the loop suddenly shot out to form a new stream. Merlin could have sworn he saw an image shimmer within the liquid.

He stepped forward and scrutinized the first stream more closely. He concentrated hard, trying to sense anything with his magic, but the cave itself had so much of it that it drowned out the subtleties in anything else. Frustrated, he let out a harsh huff of breath.

This was not helping Arthur, Merlin thought angrily.

An image grew within the stream, and sharpened into focus as if in response. Merlin watched as Arthur traipsed around a forest, looking irritated and ready to hit something. His hand was gripping his sword with a little too much strength.

Merlin glanced to the bottles again. He went over and picked up a dark red one, and carefully dipped it in the liquid. The shimmering liquid filled the phial without a problem, but Merlin still glanced around the cave just in case it was about to come crumbling down around (and on top) of him.

When nothing happened, Merlin went to the basin and poured the water out. The water splashed into it, and small waves dissipated into stillness. There were no images. Merlin thought again about Arthur, but no image came to the basin. Around him, however, the streams lit up with numerous depictions of Arthur. Merlin was a little creeped out.

He focused his attention on the basin again and tried thinking of Arthur’s apparent doom. Again, nothing happened. Merlin tried the spell he had used to get there, and even repeating the words on the basin itself. Nothing worked.

Eventually, Merlin just pushed some of his magic into the water; the equivalent of a childish magical shove.  A painful gasp ripped from his lungs as he felt something grip his magic in sharp claws and _pull_.

Caught off guard, Merlin couldn’t do anything as he felt something being dragged painfully from his body. He didn’t know what, but Merlin knew instinctively that something was being taken from him, out of him. The moment was over in a heartbeat, but it left Merlin shaking and panting in its wake. He looked down into the basin to see the water beginning to bubble like it was boiling. There was no steam, so Merlin dipped a finger inside, and found that it was frigid.

An image grew from a small dot until it filled the entire basin, and the water calmed. Merlin could see a thick tree with a large crack up its side and a slice across its bark  staring back at him. Then the image splintered into Arthur being impaled by a sword as his body was thrown against the tree.

Merlin gasped in a different kind of pain as he watched Arthur die. It was worse than the pain from before, and it filled Merlin with dread. The water replayed the images over and over. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying.

Feeling sick, Merlin turned away and found himself stumbling out of the cave as he tripped over his running feet. He _had_ to get back to Camelot.

His mind kept replaying the images.

_The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying. The tree. Arthur dying._

Merlin threw up.

He was in the forest. He didn’t know how he had gotten there. He couldn’t remember getting in the boat, or walking back. He couldn’t remember anything except the tree, and Arthur dying.

He gave a full-bodied shiver, and stared down at the vomit on the ground.

He had to get back to the castle.

 

 

 

 

 

The sun was just beginning to set in Camelot as Merlin started his walk back to the castle. He had rinsed his mouth out with the water in his waterskin, which was now completely empty. He realized that it was much later than he’d intended, and that Arthur would most likely already be back when he returned. That meant trouble. Arthur would have been expecting a bath when he came home, and he only ever let Merlin draw it for him. He always smiled so smugly when he saw Merlin struggling with the buckets of water. His absence would be noted, and with every passing minute he was not there, Arthur was sure to become more annoyed and more inclined to throw things. Merlin just hoped there were no spoons in the vicinity when he got back.

Merlin wondered who would give him the most grief for being late. Arthur, Gwen, or Gaius?

“Merlin!” a familiar voice called in surprise, as Merlin ducked under a tree branch.

Looking towards the sound, Merlin spotted Gwaine on horseback riding towards him. His chainmail glinted in the sunlight, and as he turned his horse in Merlin’s direction, he flipped his hair back quickly with a toss of his head. The brown locks bounced out of his face and revealed a wide grin.

“Gwaine!” Merlin smiled as he walked to meet him. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Gwaine replied. “I’m here on official business. The attacks on the border, remember? What you’re doing here is the real question. Didn’t think Princess could survive this long without you?” he grinned teasingly.

“Not even a minute.” Merlin smiled back.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Gwaine said with a thoughtful smile on his face, as if he were remembering something. He looked down at Merlin. “He’s been unmanageable without you. Won’t stop pouting.”

Merlin laughed.

“Gwaine!”

It was Arthur’s voice. Strong, authoritative, and pissed off by the sound of it.

Arthur came riding into view, and his blue gaze zeroed in on Merlin instantly. Surprise coloured his features before turning into a happy expression that took away his anger and made him look far more relaxed overall. Then the look shifted to annoyance.

“I thought I told you to stay at home,” Arthur said, his horse coming to a stop beside Merlin. The king looked down at him with a stern expression, and Merlin tried to look as innocent as possible.

“Ah, no harm done,” Gwaine said with an easy smile.

“No. He was told to stay back. That was a direct order from his king, which he disobeyed _yet_ _again_. Do you think just once you could listen to me?” Arthur asked Merlin.

“Only if you start saying something important,” Merlin quipped back. Arthur glared at him as Gwaine laughed. Merlin flashed a smile at both of them.

“Come on, Arthur, he’s fine. Merlin can take care of himself, right Merlin?” Gwaine asked, and winked at him.

“That’s not the point. It’s dangerous out here, and if we’re attacked he’ll be forced to flee on foot as we’ve no other horse or weapons. Not that he’d know how to properly use the latter,” Arthur grumbled.

“We’ve got a dagger or two, but I’ll admit he’s not that good with any weapon – ”

“Oi!” Merlin interjected.

“ –but he’ll be all right. He always is. As for the horses, well, he can ride with me,” Gwaine said. He looked at Merlin. “Hop on the back and hold on tight,” he said, and winked again. Merlin chuckled at the suggestive look Gwaine continued to send him.

“No,” Arthur said, hard and unamused. He was back to being pissed off again, then.

“Oh, you want him with you, then?” Gwaine asked.

Arthur turned his horse to turn back around as he stated, “He’ll walk.”

Merlin rolled his eyes at Arthur’s back. Gwaine was grinning for some reason.

Arthur kept his pace slow, and Merlin had the sneaking suspicion it was to make it easier for him to keep up with him on foot. Arthur, of course, acted as if this were the usual speed he went on horse back. He kept his eyes forward, and when they met up with the others he ignored their exclamations of surprise at seeing Merlin in favor of ordering them to move forward.

“What are you doing out here?” Percival asked.

“Went for a walk,” Merlin lied.

“Lying in the presence of the king is an offence fit for the stocks,” Arthur drawled.

“What about lying in the presence of a prat?” Merlin asked. The others snickered. Arthur didn’t say anything, but Merlin would have sworn he saw Arthur’s lips form a smile.

“How did you find us?” Arthur asked, instead of commenting.

“Accidentally.”

“Really?” Arthur didn’t sound like he believed it.

“You did give him half the day off. He can do what he wants with his time when it’s his own,” a newer knight piped up. Merlin nodded. He liked this new knight. “Besides, why would he seek us out on his afternoon off when he could be romancing a lovely girl back in town?” the man laughed.

There was an uncomfortable silence. The other knights froze on their horses and looked either at the ground, or at each other in a silent communication that Merlin didn’t understand. Gwaine’s eyes had gone wide, and he shook his head in disbelief but kept silent, which said a lot for Gwaine.

When Merlin looked at Arthur to see why the knights had reacted so oddly, he saw that the king’s shoulders had tensed, and the rest of him was rigid. He looked stiff on the horse’s back, and the horse sensed something was amiss and neighed loudly. Arthur loosened up a little, but there was a tightness in his shoulders that didn’t dissipate.

“Do you know any girls that would like to be romanced in town by me?” Merlin tried to joke. It fell flat, Arthur once again turning rigid in his seat and the knights now watching his back like words might appear on it to tell them what to do. Merlin hoped they would include an explanation as to what was going on for him as well.

“No, none,” the new knight mumbled uncomfortably.

“Not one?” Merlin tried again, hoping to lighten the mood. “I’m not that ugly am I?”

Silence.

“I don’t know how to take that,” Merlin replied with a frown.

Arthur cleared his throat.

“Th– ”

A battle cry came from their right as men came running out of the forest with their swords raised high. They wore mismatched homemade armor, and charged at the knights without hesitation. Their cries were desperate, and their eyes were wide with adrenaline.

“On your left!” Arthur shouted out as the first man from the group went to attack Leon.

Leon’s sword quickly stopped him, but it further enraged the rest of the bandits and their battle cries went up an octave.

“Merlin, run!” Arthur ordered.

Merlin ignored him and surveyed the situation. Gwaine threw him a dagger and Merlin caught it in time for a man three times his size to try to body slam into him. Merlin turned to take the force, but as the impact hit, he moved his dagger to the man’s chest and his eyes flashed gold. The man fell to the ground at his feet.

Merlin staggered back as his eyes shot up to find Arthur in the fight. The knights were holding the attack off with relative ease, but Arthur had still somehow gotten himself in the middle of it all. Of course.

The king had jumped from his horse, and was fighting the attackers like it was as easy as breathing. His sword moved like an extension of his arm, and Merlin could only watch in awe. Elegant and lethal, Arthur didn’t hesitate once. Merlin was so captivated that he didn’t see a burly man coming from Arthur’s blind spot.

Merlin wasn’t fast enough to shout out his warning when the man lunged at Arthur. But Arthur’s years of training and instinct kicked in and he spun in time to drive his sword into him, stumbling back under the force of the attack.

Arthur was quickly cornered by four men, and Merlin could see in his eyes that his mind was racing for a solution. Before he could come up with one, one of the men swung his sword. As if that were a signal, the others attacked as one.

Arthur tried to fight off the attacks coming at him, but Merlin could see he was being backed up. Right into a tree. A tree with a large crack up its side and a slice across its bark.

Merlin’s breath caught and his heart stopped.

Arthur was still fighting hard, but the attacks only increased. The other knights were busy with their own fights, as more and more men came out from the forest. They must have planned it. They knew they’d draw out a patrol if word got back to the palace. Whether they had known Arthur would be there, Merlin didn’t know, but they weren’t going to let the opportunity to kill the king pass them by.

As if someone had restarted Merlin’s heart, suddenly he was back and rushing into the action. He flung his magic out at the men, making several of them go flying. He didn’t care if Arthur saw. He didn’t care if all of Camelot saw. He was stopping that prophecy.

Merlin saw a skinny man with shaggy blonde hair and a bushy beard lock eyes with Arthur and twirl his sword in his hand, his grip tightening. In the man’s grey eyes, Merlin saw Arthur’s death. Merlin didn’t even think. He didn’t know he moved. He wasn’t aware of anything.

As the man shoved Arthur, harder than he should have been able to, and Arthur stumbled to fall against the tree, Merlin’s mind just stopped. Merlin didn’t realize he’d screamed Arthur’s name. He didn’t see Arthur’s blue eyes snap to him and widen in fear. He didn’t know he had lunged forward, faster and harder than he ever thought himself capable of doing. He didn’t think about shoving Arthur out of the way at the very last second, even as the skinny man’s blade thrust forward to impale the king.

Merlin wasn’t aware of any of this, until he suddenly heard a shout that his mind distantly recognized as his name, and then Arthur’s face was above him. Merlin’s head lolled to the side to see the forest floor littered with bodies. He saw the knights, bruised and bloodied, standing away from him with stricken faces. He felt calloused fingers on his face as Arthur moved his head, and Merlin’s vision was filled with his king.

He didn’t understand what had happened until Arthur, with a hoarse voice, called him an idiot and pressed on his abdomen.

Then Merlin screamed as the pain shot through his body.

He looked down to see blood rushing from him, soaking his clothes and seeping into the dirt below. Merlin looked up to see the tree, a bloody stab mark on the bark and Merlin wondered if it was his blood or the skinny man’s.

Merlin was relieved to notice that Arthur was unharmed. He smiled at Arthur, but it turned to a grimace as Arthur tied his neckerchief tightly around his body. Merlin held back a sob of pain.

“I told you to _run_ ,” Arthur said, and glared down at him with eyes that were suspiciously bright.

“Never do what you tell me. Why start now?” Merlin managed to get out.

“We need to get you to Gaius.”

“Won’t make it.”

“Of course you will,” Arthur said forcefully. His hand kept slipping in the blood as he tried to tie the knot with the neckerchief. Merlin brought his hand up and placed it over Arthur’s, stopping his movement.

“No,” Merlin said, cutting Arthur off before he could speak. “I won’t make it,” he stated.

It was the only way he could get through to him. This wasn’t about giving up. This wasn’t a joke to lighten the mood. This wasn’t up for debate. Merlin needed Arthur to know this was his professional opinion as a physician’s apprentice.

Arthur was staring at him, as if he’d blanked out his surroundings completely. He was and wasn’t looking at him, and Merlin wasn’t sure if that was better or not.

“Sire?” Leon said softly.

Merlin looked up to see the tall blond carefully step towards Arthur. When Leon’s eyes met his they were a clear goodbye, and Merlin wasn’t sure why that had him tearing up, but he suddenly felt calloused fingers on his cheek.

Arthur was wiping away a tear.

“Don’t be such a girl, Merlin,” Arthur whispered, almost to himself.

“Sire, we must leave at once. It is not safe,” said a knight Merlin didn’t know.

“Yes. The faster we get back to Camelot, the faster we can get Merlin to Gaius,” Arthur agreed. Merlin and Arthur locked eyes, and Merlin could see that Arthur knew. But he couldn’t admit defeat, couldn’t at least try. “Elyan, ride ahead and alert Gaius. He needs to be ready as soon as we come into the courtyard.”

“He cannot be moved,” stated the new knight. All the others looked at him. “My mother was a healer in our village. I used to help her with the injured. If you move him, he’ll bleed out worse and die faster.”

_Die faster._

Arthur’s rigid posture did not go unnoticed by the men. Several knights, and Merlin, glared at the new knight.

“Then you treat him here until he is stable enough to be moved,” Arthur stated. “Elyan, your orders stand. Go now.”

“Sire– ” the new knight tried.

“I said: Treat. Him. Here.”

Arthur’s head was turned away from Merlin, but Merlin could tell by the tone Arthur had his stubborn and blazing gaze turned on the new knight. Merlin wanted to snort at the thought but the world was growing dim around him.

“What do you need, Jorad?” Gwaine asked the knight.

Blinking, the knight turned to Gwaine. He cleared his throat as he looked back to Arthur and then to Merlin. Merlin wondered if he was scared of being tasked to do a doomed job, and if he thought Arthur would kill him for not saving Merlin. He hoped Jorad, knew Arthur would never do something like that.

“Water. And a fire. I need some herbs, and…”

Merlin’s eyes drifted closed and he stopped listening to Joradrattle of the supplies he needed. He was vaguely aware of the vibration of footsteps as the knights left. It was colder without them, but Merlin wasn’t sure if that was because of the body heat they produced or if it was just the cold wet feeling of his blood.

He could hear voices, soft and near. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, nor did he have the energy to try. The lilts of them were familiar, and he got the sense it was Gwaine and Arthur. Safety was an odd feeling to have when bleeding out on the forest floor.

“I said I won’t leave him,” Arthur said, a bit too loudly, in an angry commanding voice.

Gwaine said something back, but again Merlin couldn’t make it out.

There was a gust of breath across Merlin’s face as someone sighed. Arthur probably. A hand stroked his cheek. Then the warmth was gone. Merlin wished he had the strength to complain. To call Arthur back.

“Merlin, can you hear me?” Gwaine asked, and a hand was on Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin didn’t answer. He wanted Arthur. He was dying. The least he could have was his Arthur. “Merlin, nobody else is here,” Gwaine informed him. “I know there’s healing magic, Merlin. I’ve seen it before. Can you do it? Can you save yourself?”

Merlin panicked for a second or so, but the blood loss was too much for him to worry over Gwaine’s admission of knowing about him. He slowly opened his eyes to see Gwaine’s worried face tilted away from him, and his eyes scanning the area around them.

“I don’t know how long they’ll be, but I doubt Arthur will stay away for much longer. You need to do it now,” Gwaine told him. Merlin frowned. “Merlin, this is not the time to be shy. Do whatever magic you need to do.”

“How– ”

“If you ask me how I know about your magic, I’ll press on your wound. That’s almost insulting. Nobody is that unobservant.” Merlin frowned again, and Gwaine leaned in to whisper against Merlin’s ear. “Besides, you’re not very subtle about using it when you’re drunk.”

Merlin gave a tired grin at that. He scrunched up his nose as he searched his mind for a spell. If he healed himself completely it would be too suspicious. If he didn’t heal himself enough, he’d die anyway. Merlin settled on a spell that changed the wound. It healed him so his organs were fine, and he wouldn’t bleed out, but still kept it deep and painful enough to not raise the alarm. Hopefully the new knight was a good healer, and would be able to keep stable him enough until they got to Gaius.

“That’s it, Merlin,” Gwaine said, head still by his ear but tilted down to watch the change of the wound. He smiled as the magic stopped, and he saw Merlin’s eyes open with the last of the gold vanishing. They locked eyes, and Merlin smiled back at Gwaine’s smile turned grin. He could feel Gwaine’s breath of relief on his face, and Merlin let out his own nervous laugh. Gwaine’s hand held his face as helooked at his best friend, silently thanking the gods for magic.

“GWAINE!” Arthur yelled.

Gwaine pulled away and looked at Arthur as he stormed towards them with a bundle of firewood in his arms and a myriad of emotions flicking across his face. Merlin wasn’t sure what that meant, but he still wasn’t strong enough to sort it out yet. He had to keep his energy for important things, like not dying.

“Arthur,” Gwaine replied smoothly.

Merlin looked at him to see amusement on Gwaine’s face. He wondered what was so funny about an angry Arthur. Merlin tried to sit up but Arthur was suddenly holding him down.

“Hey,” Merlin complained.

“I don’t know what Gwaine told you, but you’re not moving,” Arthur stated.

“Arthur– ”

“NO.”

“Princess feeling a little– ”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll throw you in the dungeons as soon as we get back. Knight or not,” Arthur threatened.

Gwaine laughed and held his hands up in defeat.

“We need some help,” Leon called from further out in the forest.

“Go,” Arthur said to Gwaine.

“I think I should stay with Merlin,” Gwaine said. Merlin would have liked to have the privacy to magic some more blood into himself, considering how much he’d lost, but he also wanted Arthur around. Gwaine was watching Arthur for a response in a laid-back manner.

“I said, go,” Arthur ground out. His jaw and shoulders were set, and he seemed tense once again as he hovered over Merlin.

“But– ”

“Now.”

“Arth– ”

“Merlin doesn’t need two of us, and I’m already here. I’m ordering you to go, Gwaine.”

“All right, all right,” Gwaine said, and this time Merlin was sure he sounded amused.

As Gwaine left, Merlin turned his blue eyes to Arthur.

“That wasn’t very nice,” he told him. He could feel his strength coming back. “He was just concerned.”

“Sure. Just concerned. That’s all, huh?”

Merlin was taken aback by the accusation in Arthur’s voice. Before he could say anything, Arthur turned away from him.

“Yourr bandage needs changing,” he stated.

“I– ”

“Sire, we’ve got the supplies,” Jorad said, as he came rushing to Merlin’s side.

Arthur stood up, but didn’t move far. His arms were crossed in front of him as he watched the knight undo Merlin’s bandage. Merlin knew better than to look at the wound, so he studied Arthur’s face instead.

Arthur swallowed at the sight of Merlin’s injury, which he guessed meant that it didn’t look pretty. When Jorad touched it, Merlin yelled. Arthur leapt forward.

“What did you do?!” Arthur snapped .

“Sire, I have to see the damage,” the knight replied. Arthur looked furious, but went back to his position.

Merlin tried to keep his cries of pain to himself as Jorad worked. To distract himself, he put himself in the knight’s shoes. What would Merlin do first? He would have done as Jorad had, and checked the extent of the trauma. Merlin concentrated on predicting the next move. Some of it made the anticipation of what he knew would be painful worse, but at least it was some kind of distraction from what was happening, and more importantly from Arthur’s reactions.

The worst of it was the press of the herb mixture into his wound. He gasped and flinched away, eyes popping open.

“Hold him down,” Jorad ordered to nobody in particular.

Leon and Gwaine acted first. The poultice was once again pressed into his wound. Merlin screamed.

“That’s enough!” Arthur yelled.

“Sire –“

“I said stop!” Arthur commanded and went to push Jorad away from Merlin, but Leon moved from his positon holding down Merlin’s legs, another knight quickly taking his place, and held Arthur off. “Leon!” Arthur looked down at Merlin, who screamed again as the paste was pressed deeper. “STOP! THAT’S AN ORDER.”

Jorad didn’t stop.

Another scream was ripped from Merlin’s throat.

“IF YOU TOUCH HIM AGAIN I’LL HAVE YOU HANGED!”

“Arthur– ” Gwaine tried, as he held Merlin’s arms down.

“Sire– ” Leon said, still holding Arthur back. Two other knights had joined him in keeping the king from interfering.

“If I do not do this it is likely that he’ll get infected and die anyway. So with all due respect, Your Majesty, stay out of my way,” Jorad said in a rush.

Arthur stopped his struggle to get to Merlin.

Merlin knew the knight was right, and he wanted to tell Arthur so, but he couldn’t form words over the pain. He should have healed himself more.

Finally, _finally_ , when Jorad had done all he could, Merlin could relax. He slipped his eyes shut as he watched the knight get to his feet, covered in Merlin’s blood and looking tired.

“Thank you,” Merlin muttered, as he let himself start to drift off.

“Will he be all right?” Arthur asked Jorad, kneeling beside Merlin. Merlin felt his hand brush through his hair, and he thought he smiled but he was so tired he wasn’t sure he managed it.

“Yes. He’s stable enough to move now. But the faster he gets to Gaius the better.” There was a pause, and Merlin assumed Arthur was nodding. “He was lucky. It looks worse than it is. I was prepared for something fatal, but it seems the sword missed his vital organs. He needs rest, but proper care is essential to assure he won’t die of infection. The forest is much too damp. I’m afraid it’ll– ”

“Can he ride?” Arthur interrupted.

“Not by himself,” Jorad replied.

“Tell the others we’re leaving for Camelot now. Elyan should have made it back by now.”

“Yes, he’ll have had plenty of time to alert Gaius.”

“Good. Help me move Merlin to my horse.”

“Of course, sire.”

Merlin felt his body being picked up, and as his head rested against the cool chainmail, he realized Arthur was carrying him.

“Gwaine, hold Merlin.”

Merlin felt himself passed off, and opened his eyes to see Arthur mounting his horse. His body twisted as he was moved by the knights, and he gasped at the tug on his wound.

“Carefully,” Arthur warned.

“He’s not that light, you know,” Gwaine muttered.

“He’s too thin. You shouldn’t have a problem with him,” Arthur said.

“Have you seen him lately? He’s got some serious muscle under those clothes, I assure you. He’s not our weak little Merlin anymore,” Gwaine countered.

“Hey,” Merlin protested faintly, objecting to being called weak at all.

“And how would you know what Merlin looks like under his clothes?” Arthur asked, with absolutely fake nonchalance.

Merlin could have laughed at the suggestion. Yeah, right. Gwaine was like an older brother to him. He looked at Gwaine to see amusement in his eyes, too. When he looked at Arthur, however, he found hard blue eyes glaring at Gwaine.

“Merlin’s not one to keep his clothes on for long after three tankards of mead,” Gwaine joked.

“Four!” Merlin protested, as he recalled the one and only night he’d actually been able to go to the tavern with Gwaine and get thoroughly drunk.

“Four,” Gwaine corrected himself.

“Shut up, Merlin. You need sleep,” Arthur ordered, as Merlin was manhandled practically into his lap.

Merlin gasped at the pain.

“Lean into him, Merlin,” Jorad told him.

Merlin obeyed.

“Shouldn’t he be lying across the saddle?” Arthur asked.

“If you want him to press on or reopen his wound, sure,” Jorad said.

“I see,” Arthur replied, and frowned as Merlin shifted to get comfortable.

Merlin rested his head on Arthur’s chainmail covered chest, and looked up into his concerned blue eyes. He smiled tiredly. “Ready,” he informed his king.

Arthur rolled his eyes and looked around to see most of the knights were ready on their horses as well. He nodded to them and they started to move.

“Slow down,” Merlin groaned in pain.

“Merlin, we need to get you to Gaius.”

“I thought the objective was to get me there alive,” Merlin grumbled. “I mean, the movement of the horse is too fast, and it’s pulling on my wound. Please slow down,” he amended, as he felt Arthur stiffen.

“Even a ‘please?’ That’s a first,” Arthur replied. But he slowed the horse.

“And I’ll even give you a thank you,” Merlin smiled.

“Thank you, _my lord_ ,” Arthur supplied.

“Don’t push it,” Merlin mumbled tiredly, and drifted off to sleep curled against Arthur’s chest, the soft rumble of Arthur’s laugh making a last smile come to his lips.

 

 

 

 

 

It had been a month since Merlin had been to The Land of Untold Stories. A month. Two of those weeks Arthur had spent forcing his recovery, not allowing Merlin to do a damn thing but sleep and heal. Gaius, the traitor, had sided with Arthur.

The next week, when Merlin was finally able to do things, Arthur had forced Merlin to practically become his shadow. He’d even made Merlin follow him when he had to relieve himself. It was getting ridiculous, but Arthur insisted.

Gwen claimed it was so that Arthur wouldn’t be left alone with Princess Adelia. Apparently, that was the name of the Princess who arrived with her Father, King Lysder, during Merlin’s recovery. Gwen said Arthur was trying to avoid her, as it was no secret that the princess was quite taken with him.

Merlin didn’t know how that differed from _every other princess that met Arthur_. Or women in general, actually.

“ _Mer_ lin, hurry up!” Arthur said as he came walking into his chambers, his deep blue tunic partially hidden under his leather jacket. Merlin frowned.

“I thought you were wearing the other shirt,” Merlin whined, and he didn’t even care about the tone of his voice because he’d stayed up all night trying to remove a stain from the dark red shirt Arthur was going to wear tonight.

Arthur didn’t even react as he walked over to pluck a grape from a tray on the table by the window. He popped it in his mouth before turning to Merlin.

“That reminds me, I want my other boots,” he drawled.

“Which ones?”

“You know,” Arthur said, waving his hand in the air as if that would magically let Merlin read his mind (Merlin was pretty sure he’d know a spell to do that if there was one; it would’ve made dealing with Arthur _so_ much easier). “The ones with the buckle,” Arthur told him before popping two more grapes into his mouth.

“You’re going to a feast, Arthur, can’t you just wait to eat there? If you stain your shirt I am not cleaning it up,” Merlin told him as he eyed the ripe strawberries on the plate beside the grapes.

Arthur purposefully picked up a strawberry and very slowly ate it, eyes daring Merlin to say anything. Merlin pursed his lips and mentally called Arthur a prat.

“This is why we have to put new holes in your belt.”

Arthur glared at Merlin, but there was a sparkle of mirth in his eyes which ruined the look.

“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur said, and picked up another grape. Merlin stared as Arthur ate another strawberry, hoping that he wouldn’t get any on his clothes. Arthur turned to look at him and sighed. “Merlin?”

“What?”

“Boots.”

Merlin glanced between the strawberries and Arthur a few times before reluctantly leaving to get his master’s boots. Sure, one would think the king of Camelot capable of eating a strawberry without getting it everywhere like a small child, but then one must never have met Arthur Pendragon. Merlin sometimes had the suspicion that Arthur did it just to give Merlin more work to do. It wasn’t even Merlin’s job to clean his clothes. The prat.

Merlin returned with Arthur’s boots, one of five pairs Arthur owned with a buckle, and put them down in front of Arthur, who was still snacking on the fruit.

“Not those ones,” Arthur sighed, before eating another grape. There were no strawberries left.

“Which ones then?” Merlin asked.

“The ones with the three buckles.”

Merlin eyed Arthur’s outfit as he pictured the shoes in question. He quirked an eyebrow at Arthur as his eyes came back up Arthur’s body from their scrutinizing.

“With that shirt?” Merlin asked.

Arthur threw the rest of the grapes at him.

“Oi!” Merlin exclaimed, as the grapes bounced off various surfaces and scattered across the floor. Merlin turned to glare at His Royal Pratness when he noticed a dark red stain on the left side of Arthur’s shirt next to his heart. Merlin narrowed his eyes.

“That better be blood,” he growled.

Arthur lazily looked down and smirked when he saw the strawberry stain. “Nope.” he smiled, and Merlin really wished he could hit him without committing treason or ending up in the stocks. “Better fix it, Merlin,” Arthur taunted.

Merlin stormed over to him and glared at the offending stain, then at the offending king. He pulled Arthur’s jacket closed and stepped back. Arthur raised an eyebrow at him.

“I said fix it, not hide it.”

“You’re the one who said to hurry up!”

“I’m not going to host a neighboring King and his daughter with a strawberry stain on my shirt.”

“Well, you should have thought about that before you got it, shouldn’t you!” Merlin huffed.

Arthur and Merlin glared at each other.

“Arthur? Merlin?” Gwen’s voice drifted into the room a second before she did. Gwen gave an exasperated sigh when she saw them, locked in a staring contest and both too stubborn to give in. “You have guests, Arthur,” Gwen scolded him.

“And a stain on my shirt that Merlin won’t remove.”

“You put it there on purpose!”

“I did not!”

“Did too!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Did not!”

“Did– ”

“BOYS!” Gwen yelled.

Merlin and Arthur went back to glaring at each other.

Gwen picked up another shirt, the red one Arthur was _supposed_ to be wearing, and threw it in his direction. “Arthur, go put that on. Merlin, come with me, and for the love of Camelot would you two behave,” she ordered.

“Fine,” Arthur huffed in a very un-king-like manner. Merlin only just held back the urge to stick his tongue out at him as he followed Gwen from the room. “Don’t go too far, Merlin,” Arthur ordered as he disappeared behind the changing screen.

In the hall, Gwen turned to eye Merlin as they walked.

“You two seem a little… tense,” she remarked.

“I’ve been with him nonstop for the past week,” Merlin said.

“Isn’t that usual?”

“No, you don’t understand. I mean literally nonstop. He’s even made me sleep in the chair at the desk,” Merlin said. Gwen blinked.

“At night?”

“No, during the day. He’s ordered me to take naps,” Merlin said sarcastically, getting a severe eye roll from Gwen.

“Why is he making you sleep in his room?”

“Because he’s a prat.”

“Merlin,” Gwen chastised.

“Sorry, Royal Prat,” Merlin corrected himself.

They came to a stop at the end of the hall. Gwen turned to Merlin.

“Sooner or later you two are going to realize it. I just hope it’ll be sooner, because if this goes on much longer I might just crack,” she said.

“And what would ‘it’ be?” Merlin asked.

Gwen didn’t answer, but turned the corner and disappeared. “You’ve got five minutes before I come back here and drag you both down there, whether he’s dressed or not,” her voice drifted back to Merlin as she went.

Merlin entertained the image of Arthur being forced to sit at the feast in just his boots.

“Why is your face all red?” Arthur asked, suddenly in front of Merlin. Merlin startled and looked at Arthur to see he was indeed fully dressed. He breathed a small sigh of relief. Arthur looked at him with confusion. “You’re not coming down with anything, are you?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at Merlin as he checked him up and down.

Blushing still, Merlin muttered a quiet “No,” and turned away. “Hurry up, before Gwen comes back,” he said.

 

 

 

 

 

The feast was, as usual, almost ridiculously large. The table was covered in food that had Merlin’s mouth watering. He stood behind Arthur, watching him eat every bite with longing. For the food, that is.

The Princess Adelia and her father, King Lysder, were seated just to Arthur’s right. The princess’s long dark hair was intricately braided and had several gems woven into it, so that her hair sparkled when the candle light caught it. Her small oval face was neither pretty nor ugly, but rather plain. Her most prominent feature was her eyes, which seemed slightly too large for her face, giving her an innocent expression.

She sat in her chair, shoulders back and chest out, looking the part of the noble she was as she ate daintily. Her dark blue dress spoke of their kingdom’s wealth, and Merlin could see several of the serving girls who were tending to the guests looking longingly at the dress.

King Lysder looked very much like his daughter, except for the distinctly masculine square jaw covered in a large beard. Merlin held in a smile as he imagined the princess with the beard as well. The king sat as regally as his daughter, between her and Arthur. He had been supposed to sit on Arthur’s other side, so the two honored guests would flank the king, but he had very pointedly ordered his daughter to sit beside him instead.

Merlin found it all amusing. Arthur might look like the type of man who enjoyed tumbling visiting maidens, but contrary to popular belief (and the wishes of the serving girls and visiting ladies), he wasn’t the sort of man who would do what Lysder apparently feared. Arthur claimed it was against his whole Code of Honor and such, but Merlin suspected it was something else. What, he didn’t know though.

“This is wonderful, Arthur. You’ve truly outdone your father,” King Lysder said, before taking a sip of his wine.

Arthur smiled politely. “Thank you. My people worked hard to ensure nothing but the best for your visit,” he told him.

“Is it not wonderful, Adelia?” King Lysder asked his daughter.

The princess looked up from her meal and nodded. “It is all quite lovely. I’ve never had rabbit this tender before,” she told Arthur. Arthur smiled genuinely; rabbit was his favorite, and he was glad to see her enjoy it so much.

Merlin felt an odd little twinge that had him shifting his weight to the other foot and back. He wondered what it was, but pushed it away as he watched Arthur’s smile and listened to the conversation.

“I’m glad you like it,” Arthur told the princess. He beckoned a servant forward, making Merlin frown at not being summoned himself, and leaned forward to speak to the man. “Have you got any more of those strawberries and grapes that were in my room earlier?” The servant nodded. “Bring a plate out for Princess Adelia, would you?” The servant nodded once more and left.

Merlin frowned again, and the odd twinge sprang up and twisted a little. He wondered if he should go see Gaius after the feast and get checked out. Perhaps his wound had become infected in spite of the magic.

When the plate was presented to Princess Adelia, she looked delighted, and Arthur smiled once more at her. Merlin found a sharp elbow jabbed into his side and snapped his attention to his right.

“Stop scowling like that. Leave the poor girl alone,” Gwen reprimanded him.

“I wasn’t scowling,” Merlin defended himself.

“If looks could kill, she’d be head first into her rabbit,” Gwen said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Merlin said. Before Gwen could say another word, Merlin changed the topic. He wasn’t sure why he wanted so desperately to do so, but it felt urgent. “You’ve outdone yourself this time. Everything looks amazing,” he told her. Gwen gave him a look that Merlin averted his gaze to avoid. “Really, ever since you were put in charge of the castle the whole place has been running seamlessly.” Gwen scoffed at that. “No, really. I think even Camelot’s running better with you at the helm.”

Merlin dared a glance at her, and found that look still aimed at him. Flattery will get you nowhere with Gwen, he reminded himself.

“Arthur was smart to put you in charge of running the castle,” he tried again anyway.

“Merlin?” Gwen said, before Merlin could keep trying.

“Hm?”

“Shut up.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“And Merlin?”

Merlin turned to look at her.

“Try not to scowl so openly at least.” She smiled at him.

Merlin frowned. “I wasn’t– ”

Gwen shut him up with a smirk, and walked away.

Merlin frowned after her.

“Do you like the strawberries?” Arthur asked Adelia. “They’re my favorite,” he said and Merlin saw Arthur’s eyes dart to him with the threat of a smirk on his lips. Merlin flattened his own lips, unamused, in response.

“I’ve not tried them yet, actually,” Adelia replied. She daintily picked one up and examined it, and paused at the small little leaf stuck to its side from when it was washed. She quickly put it down on her plate. “Oh, no. I’m afraid I can’t.”

“What’s wrong?” Arthur asked, a frown of real concern on his face. Merlin felt himself scowling again, but couldn’t bring himself to care.

King Lysder glanced down at the strawberry for a moment. “Ah,” he said knowingly. He turned to look at Arthur. “There is a bit of a leaf stuck to it.” At Arthur’s confused face he explained, “My Adelia has a thing with cleanliness.”

“It is not a _thing_ , father. I merely like everything to be spotlessly clean and perfectly washed,” Adelia replied with a sniff.

Her father laughed lightly beside her. “Of course,” he said. He turned to Arthur. “She’s been like that since she was a girl. Her mother was the same.”

“I apologize for the fruit, then. Surely there is another that does not have a… leaf on it,” Arthur said. He glanced to Merlin to see his reaction, and Merlin raise his eyebrows at him. Arthur averted his eyes before he laughed. Merlin smiled at his ability to affect Arthur.

“No, no. It’s contaminated the rest of it, I’m afraid,” Princess Adelia replied sadly.

“Contaminated. The rest of it,” Arthur repeated slowly, as he looked between the single strawberry and the large pile on the plate, and Adelia.

“Yes. Such a shame. They do look delicious.” She sighed.

“Right,” Arthur said.

“Oh, none for her,” King Lysder said as a servant was about to top up Adelia’s cup with more wine. “She’s not used to large quantities, and I don’t want her judgement to be impaired,” he said.

“Father,” Adelia pouted.

“I’m looking out for you, my sweet,” he replied.

Merlin and Arthur shared a look. To their knowledge, the Princess was not much younger than Gwen, yet here she was being treated like a child. And reacting like one.

“I hear you’ve got some wonderful riding trails in the surrounding forests,” King Lysder said as he turned to Arthur. Adelia went back to her rabbit after sipping some water.

“Yes, it’s lovely this time of year,” Arthur replied, turning his gaze to the other king. “Shall we go riding tomorrow?”

“That would be wonderful,” King Lysder smiled. “My daughter and I ride almost daily at home. I think it’ll do us some good to get the fresh air. Shall we say tomorrow morning? After breakfast?”

“I can have a picnic packed if you’d like,” Arthur said.

“Oh, that sounds just lovely,” Adelia said.

“Right, then that’s what we’ll do,” King Lysder declared.

Arthur smiled. “I’ll arrange it myself,” he told them.

Merlin groaned internally at the thought. ‘I’ll arrange it myself’ meant he’d order Merlin to arrange it all and still expect him to do everything else he had to do without delay. Arthur’s blue gaze connected with him and Merlin saw the confirmation in them that that was exactly what he was going to do. Great.

A small yawn pulled Merlin, Arthur, and King Lysder’s attention to the princess. She smiled sheepishly back at them.

“I apologize. I’ve had a rather long day, and I did not manage to get much sleep last night,” she said.

“I am sorry to hear that,” Arthur said. “Is there anything I can do?”

At the fluttering of the princess’s eyelashes, Arthur’s eyes widened for an instant before he averted his gaze and a slight colour came to his cheeks. Merlin’s scowled so hard that his eyebrows ached.

“No, I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” King Lysder said, oblivious to his daughters actions. “She’s always had trouble sleeping, it seems. Perhaps a potion from your court physician?”

“Certainly,” Arthur replied. “Merlin here can see to it.” He turned to Merlin.

“Of course, my lord,” Merlin bowed slightly.

“Excellent.” King Lysder nodded. He looked at his again yawning daughter and sighed. “I think it best if we retire for the night. Thank you for the meal. We shall see you tomorrow morning,” he said and nodded respectfully at Arthur. Arthur returned the nod.

“Of course,” he replied.

“Good night, Arthur.” Adelia smiled sweetly. Arthur gave her the same nod, but there was a small smile there that Merlin did not like.

 

 

 

 

 

As Arthur left the feast, he paused and turned to Merlin.

“Have Gaius deliver the potion to Princess Adelia, and then report directly back to my chambers,” he ordered.

“Again?” Merlin whined.

Arthur paused and narrowed his eyes. “Yes, again. Are you complaining, _Mer_ lin?”

“Yes! I’ve not gotten to sleep in my bed in a week!”

“So?” Arthur drawled as he walked down the hall, Merlin following.

“So, my back is starting to hurt! Your chair isn’t comfortable in the least,” Merlin complained.

“What do you expect me to do about it?”

“Let me go back to my room so I can sleep in a bed for a night at least,” Merlin said as if it were obvious and Arthur was slow, which Merlin was starting to think might be the case. “Unless you’re planning on letting me sleep in your bed, then I suggest you let me get a good night’s rest or I’ll be no use to anyone.”

Arthur went tense, walking stiffly with a frozen look on his face. He recovered quickly, however, and drawled out, “You’re always useless, I don’t see how one night’s rest can solve that.”

“Prat,” Merlin muttered.

Arthur moved like lightning, and suddenly had Merlin’s arms twisted behind his back and Merlin pulled flush against his front. Arthur’s mouth was by Merlin’s ear as Merlin yelped and struggled to get out of the iron grip. “What was that?" Arthur whispered into his ear. Merlin squirmed again at the foreign sensation of hot breath against his earlobe.

“Nothing,” he replied, struggling to escape Arthur’s grasp. When did his breathing get all weird? Arthur chuckled in his ear, and Merlin felt a very strong reaction to that, but he wasn’t sure what to name it.

Arthur’s nose bumped into his hair, and when he breathed in after finishing his little laugh, he froze. Merlin waited and listened to see what was wrong, but all he could hear was Arthur’s breathing and feel his grip on his wrists and chest against his back.

Merlin was abruptly released and shoved away.

“Hey!”

“Go get that potion,” Arthur ordered in a mumble, before he spun and walked away.

“Like I said,” Merlin said to Arthur’s retreating figure. “Prat.”

 

 

 

 

 

“Do you have anything for Princess Adelia to help her sleep?” Merlin asked as soon as he walked into his and Gaius’s chambers. Gaius was standing over his workbench, inspecting a jar of something Merlin would rather not think about so close to having just finished eating (and by that he meant stealing some rabbit off Arthur’s plate when he wasn’t looking).

“Sleep?” Gaius asked as he put down the jar of – and ew, Merlin saw _eyeballs_. “Yes, I think so. Top shelf to the right,” Gaius said, pointing to the little cupboard on the wall.

Merlin walked over and grabbed the little violet phial. He sloshed the liquid inside to be sure it was full.

“Do be careful with that, Merlin,” Gaius said without looking up.

“I always am,” he said, and walked over to Gaius. He held it out to the old man, and waited. Gaius peered up and cocked an eyebrow. “Arthur said to have you deliver it.”

“I’m busy,” he replied. “You can do it.”

“But –“

“I’ve got four orders to fulfill by tomorrow. If I deliver that it’ll delay me too long, and I’ll be up all night. Some of us need sleep. Unlike you, who keeps disappearing in the night and not coming back until morning, if at all,” Gaius said, and gave Merlin a very judgmental look.

“I’m with Arthur!” Merlin defended himself.

“That’s not my business, but –“

“No, I mean sleeping in his room!” Merlin corrected, eyes wide with shock as he blushed.

“Like I said, not my business, but –“

“No, no! I mean actually sleeping in his –“

“Merlin, if you interrupt me one more time I’ll test the new cure for those fever boils on you, and I shan’t even give you the antidote if it turns out wrong,” Gaius threatened. Merlin shut up. “You can give that to the Princess and then go to Arthur. I am sure he will understand. Do you remember the directions to tell her?”

“Yes,” Merlin sighed.

“Good. Off you go.”

Merlin sighed as he walked out the door and made his way through the castle. He just knew Arthur was not going to understand. He was going to get a lecture, and then he would have to organize the picnic and everything else.

He knocked on the door to Princess Adelia’s room. There was no answer, and Merlin frowned and tried the doorknob. It turned. He went inside, and looked around to see the rooms completely empty. That was odd.

“Princess?” Merlin called to be sure.

He walked over to her bed and saw it was still made. He placed the phial on the bedside table and turned around to inspect the room. There were several large trunks filled with clothes and the wardrobe she had in her room was open, and filled as well.

Merlin saw row upon row of shoes against the wall, and whistled at the sight. That was more than Arthur had.

Footsteps sounded in the hall and Merlin turned to see Princess Adelia walk into the room with her servant girl. She stopped when she saw Merlin, and narrowed her eyes slightly.

“May I help you?” she asked.

“I’ve brought you a sleeping potion,” Merlin told her and walked to the bedside table. “From the court physician.” He picked it up to show her.

“And why did he not deliver it himself?” she asked.

“He is busy brewing a delicate potion for the king, I am afraid,” Merlin lied. Sort of. He was brewing. Just not for Arthur.

“I see, and you are qualified to deliver this, are you?” she asked.

“I’m his apprentice. I can assure you that I am qualified; however, if you’d prefer, I can get Arthur to confirm it. Whatever makes your Highness feel more at ease.” Merlin bowed.

“No, that won’t be necessary,” the princess said. She walked over and took the phial from Merlin’s hand. “Thank you,” she said, dismissing him.

“Of course,” Merlin said. “Just drink it all right before bed. It should work within a half hour. If you experience any light-headedness, that is normal. If there is anything else, please do not hesitate to summon myself or Gaius.”

“I will.”

“Good night, your Highness.” Merlin bowed again.

Merlin left, and shut the door behind him. He was about to walk to Arthur’s room before he remembered that he hadn’t told the princess to drink slowly, or the potion would upset her stomach. He turned around and knocked on the door once again.

There was no answer.

Merlin frowned and knocked again.

Again no answer.

Merlin tried the doorknob, and as it was once again unlocked, he pushed it open slowly.

“Forgive me, your Highness, I forgot to –“

The princess was not in her room. Merlin frowned and looked around. He heard shuffling from the antechamber, and walked cautiously over to see if that was where she’d disappeared to. Merlin saw the princess’s silhouette behind the changing screen. Her servant girl was helping her out of her dress, and Merlin froze.

He wasn’t sure what would happen if she knew he was there. Would she call for help? If she did that could mean her father demanding Merlin’s head on the chopping block. Or Arthur would – Merlin paused and wondered what exactly Arthur _would_ do in that situation.

“Throw out that silly potion,” Princess Adelia instructed her servant, as she had a nightgown slipped over her head. Merlin frowned in confusion. “Then turn down the bed and leave me,” she said.

“Yes, Princess.” The servant curtseyed.

Merlin’s eyes widened and he rushed back to the door, then realized he wouldn’t make it in time to close it without the servant seeing. He glanced around and noted that even the closet was too stuffed with clothes for him to hide in. Without an option, Merlin raced for the bed and slid himself under it.

He forced his breathing to be quiet as the servant girl walked in, and over to the bed. She turned down the covers, Merlin staring at her shoes as she did so. Then she picked up the potion and dumped it into the little flowerpot on the windowsill opposite the bed. She walked to the door as Princess Adelia came into the room.

“Good night, Princess,” the servant said respectfully.

“Good night.”

As the door closed and deposited the servant girl into the hall, Princess Adelia went across to her bed. She climbed in and got comfortable as Merlin glanced around, trying to think how he was going to get out of the room now.

Merlin’s thoughts were cut off by a soft gasp. Merlin froze and frowned worriedly. Another gasp sounded, followed by a breathy moan. Merlin’s eyes widened in horror.

The sounds increased, and the bed shifted a little. Merlin swallowed and scanned his mind for a spell to make him temporarily deaf. Above him he could hear and feel the princess moving and moaning. He wasn’t sure what to do. There was absolutely no way he could allow himself to be caught now. Although, he wasn’t sure he would have minded being killed at the moment.

Princess Adelia started to gasp again, and Merlin had no idea how much time had passed as he was too frozen in shock. He wasn’t sure if he was breathing loudly or not at all, but he would give anything to be far from where he was, and to have never heard the little hitching of the princess’s breath. It was an unattractive sound that reminded Merlin of when someone accidentally cut their finger on a piece of parchment.

“Arthur,” Princess Adelia sighed in a voice that was anything but innocent.

Just as the bed went still, the flowerpot on the windowsill exploded. Both the princess and Merlin jolted, but the princess cried out in surprise. Within seconds guards were knocking on the door.

“Princess Adelia, is everything all right?” one of the men asked in a rough voice.

“Yes, yes,” the princess replied, and her voice was a little hoarse when she said it. Merlin’s jaw ached with the tension of being locked in position. “I’m fine. The window must have knocked over the flowerpot,” she told them.

“Would you like us to check the room, Your Highness?” the guard asked.

“No, no. I’m all right. Really.”

“I think it would be safest if we were able to assure it was nothing more nefarious than the wind, Princess,” the guard tried again.

Princess Adelia huffed. “Very well, give me a moment,” she called. She stood from the bed and got her dressing gown from the other room. Merlin watched as she walked back to the bed and sat down, her heels inches from Merlin’s face. Merlin wanted to shift back, but was worried he’d make noise.

“Enter,” the princess called.

The door opened and three guards came in. Merlin prayed that they wouldn’t inspect under the bed. He watched with bated breath as they walked around the rooms, looking in corners and out the windows to see if there was anyone there who shouldn’t be. Merlin saw on guard approach the bed.

“What are you doing?” the princess asked.

“Protocol, Your Highness,” he assured her.

“Well, I can put your minds at ease and guarantee you that there is no one under _there_ ,” she said in a stern voice. Merlin hoped that she’d get her way.

“But– ”

“Nothing could break a flowerpot from underneath my bed!” She narrowed her eyes. “Unless, of course, Arthur has grown soft on the old ban of magic.”

The guards hesitated. Arthur had softened the laws quite a bit, and was trying to abolish them altogether, but it took time and delicacy to do so. He did not want any other kingdoms to know until it was done, lest they think it an act of war.

“Of course not, Your Highness,” another guard said.

“Well then, if that is all, I would like to go back to bed,” the princess sniffed.

“Yes, Your Highness. Good night, Your Highness,” they all chorused.

Merlin watched from under the bed as they all left. The princess put her dressing gown across a chair and got back under the covers. She yawned and blew out the candle beside her bed. Merlin was just wondering how long it would take her to fall asleep without having taken that potion when he heard snoring.

Loud snoring.

Amused, Merlin listened for a little while until he was certain she was sound asleep, then he carefully crawled out from under the bed and got to his feet. He looked down at her and saw her inelegantly sprawled in the bed, hand across her face and mouth open as she snored. Merlin recalled the sounds that had escaped that mouth earlier and shuddered in horror.

He crept quietly to the door and slowly opened it, hoping it wouldn’t make a sound. He paused when there was a soft creak, but Princess Adelia was in too deep a sleep to be disturbed. He huffed out a quiet breath and sneaked through the door, closing it gently behind him.

Merlin leaned against the wall beside the princess’s room and sighed in relief.

“Merlin?” Gwaine’s voice called from down the hall. Gwaine walked up to him, and looked between Merlin and the room he had obviously just come out of. Gwaine cocked an eyebrow at him, looking mightily confused and in need of an answer.

Merlin was too embarrassed to tell the truth, so he just looked at his feet.

“Please tell me something, because I know it isn’t what it looks like.” Gwaine laughed.

“Shhh!” Merlin hushed him quickly. “She’s sleeping.”

“Is she?” Gwaine asked in amusement.

“Yes.” Merlin frowned. “And why would it not be what it looks like?”

Gwaine laughed again, but tried to keep it quiet.

“Not that it is!” Merlin added hastily in response.

“I _know_ , Merlin.” Gwaine grinned.

“You seem sure,” Merlin said, eyes narrowing.

“I have my suspicions.” Gwaine smirked.

“About?”

Gwaine’s smirk turned back into a grin.

“You going to explain why you just sneaked out of the princess’s room and were able to assure me she is, in fact, asleep?”

“I gave her a potion,” Merlin supplied easily. He wasn’t entirely lying.

“Drugging the guests, Merlin?”

Merlin rolled his eyes as Gwaine’s amusement. “No. She said she had trouble sleeping, so Arthur said Gaius could provide some aid, and Gaius had me deliver her the potion. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Arthur is expecting me.”

“At this hour?” Gwaine asked, both brows raised in surprise. It was rather late, even for Arthur. “Where are you meeting him? I’ll walk with you.”

“His rooms,” Merlin sighed.

“ _Oh_ ,” Gwaine smirked once more and he put far too much emphasis on that single word. “Then maybe it’s best if I don’t.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Please,” he snorted. Gwaine and his sense of humor was the last thing Merlin needed right now. Especially after what he’d just had to witness… or rather, hear.

“Shouldn’t you be saying that to Arthur?” Gwaine teased.

“ _Good night_ , Gwaine,” Merlin stressed as he walked away, fighting off a blush that had no right to be there at all. Clearly it was in response to the teasing itself and not the meaning.

 

 

 

 

 

Merlin walked into Arthur’s chambers to see the king lounging on his bed, deep in thought. Arthur was, shockingly, already dressed for bed. Or rather, undressed for bed. In warm weather he usually just wore a pair of soft breeches and nothing else. His clothes from the feast were discarded on the floor without a care.

“I’m thinking, Merlin,” Arthur announced.

“That can’t be a good sign,” Merlin replied. “Should I alert the council?”

“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur said casually. “I’m thinking whether to throw you in the stocks or just lock you in the dungeons for a while.”

Merlin paused as he picked up Arthur’s clothes. “How long is a while?” he asked, not bothering to figure out what he’d done wrong this time.

Arthur mulled this over for a few seconds. “A week?” he suggested, then looked at Merlin. “Not even going to ask why?”

“I’ve stopped trying to understand your twisted mind years ago,” Merlin answered just as casually.

Arthur threw a pillow at him.

Merlin sighed. “And what, may I ask, has you wishing to punish me, _my lord_?”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed at him. Merlin held back a smirk.

“Where have you been?” Arthur asked, watching Merlin’s face closely.

“I had to deliver that potion to Princess Adelia. Gaius was too busy, and asked me to do it.”

“And?”

“And?” Merlin echoed, placing Arthur’s clothes in the basket for his dirty clothes. He’d have to take that down in a minute.

“And what else did you do? You can’t tell me you’ve been there all this time. I sent you to do that right after the feast. So, I’ll ask you again, Merlin, what were you doing that was so important that you disobeyed a direct order _from your king_?” Arthur said, using his authoritative voice.

It didn’t work.

Merlin looked back with a bored, blank expression. He had heard that voice far too often to care anymore. Not that it had ever worked on him anyway. But it was cute that Arthur tried, he supposed.

“I was delayed by the princess,” Merlin said.

“Why?”

“Because– ”

Merlin’s mouth snapped shut. Noises echoed in his head and he shuddered again. He felt like he needed a bath. His skin crawled at the memory. Arthur cleared his throat, and Merlin automatically looked up to see blue eyes looking expectantly at him, one golden eyebrow cocked. Merlin blushed, and then remembered the name on Princess Adelia’s lips when she’d – Merlin shuddered again. This time his jaw locked and he felt oddly like punching a wall. Or magically exploding multiple flowerpots. Whichever. Maybe both.

“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur prompted, getting to his knees on the bed and glaring at Merlin.

Merlin wanted to tell him that he wasn’t in the least bit intimidating kneeling on the bed like that in just his nightwear, with his hair still messed up from where he’d been laying on it on the pillow for gods knew how long. But Merlin was too tense from that damned memory to even unlock his jaw enough to respond.

“I’ve got to prepare that picnic,” he declared, and turned abruptly to walk out of the room.

“Merlin!”

“I’ll be back.”

“Merlin!”

Merlin closed the door on Arthur, and walked hastily down to the kitchens. He’d slip back into the room when he was sure Arthur was asleep. Merlin groaned at the thought of another uncomfortable night sleeping in that chair. He could just go back to his own bed, but he knew the risk was too great that Arthur would wake up and find him absent from his room.

He wished he knew why Arthur was so adamant that he stayed there.

 

 

 

 

 

The morning sun was bright, and everyone seemed in a good mood as they rode slowly down the path. King Lysder was not with them, as he had apparently discovered his rabbit from the feast did not agree with him. Gaius was caring for him, and had whispered to Merlin that it was less likely to have been the rabbit, as the king had claimed, and more likely the amount of wine he’d consumed at the feast. King Lysder, to everyone’s surprise, had allowed his daughter to go without him.

Without her father’s watchful gaze, the princess was more than a little daring. As they’d had the horses brought to the front of the castle she had smiled slyly and glanced between Arthur and the horse she was given.

“I see you’re not the only stallion in Camelot,” she’d said to Arthur, quietly enough that only he and Merlin, who was directly behind him, heard. Before Arthur was able to reply, she had gone to the horse to mount it.

“Careful, Your Highness,” Gwaine said. He was accompanying Arthur as part of their guard.

“Oh, do not worry,” Princess Adelia smiled. She turned a saucy smile on Arthur, who was just recovering from the last remark and heading to his own mount. When Arthur looked up and their eyes caught, she locked her gaze with his. “I’m an excellent rider,” she said, and even Merlin blushed at the hint of a breathy tone put on the last word.

“Right,” Gwaine said, staring at the princess. He shook himself and got on his own horse. He glanced at Merlin as Merlin mounted his horse as well. “Did you hear that?” he mouthed to Merlin. Merlin nodded.

Unfortunately, he had.

“Perhaps we should stop for some lunch?” Arthur was saying now. They’d been riding for quite some time, and Merlin guessed Arthur was feeling more than peckish.

Princess Adelia looked at the patch of dirt with a pained expression. “Is there nowhere… cleaner?”

“We’re in the forest.” Arthur laughed until he turned to look at her after dismounting. She wasn’t joking. Arthur blinked and looked between Gwaine and Merlin. “I believe we have blankets to sit upon.”

“I suppose that will have to do,” Princess Adelia said, looking rather like she was making a great sacrifice for the sake of something bigger than herself. Or at least, that was what it looked like she believed she was doing.

Merlin spread the blanket out over the patch Arthur indicated. He moved to unpack the large baskets attached to his horse. Gwaine helped him carry the food over to the blanket, and Arthur smiled at the princess as they unpacked.

“Princess,” he said, throwing her his charming smile.

Merlin turned and went to get another blanket for Gwaine and himself.

“Please, call me Adelia, Your Majesty.” The princess smiled, and reluctantly sat on the blanket.

Arthur laughed lightly. “Then please, call me Arthur.” He smiled as he sat.

“Call me disgusted,” Gwaine said quietly next to Merlin as they got their own lunch out of the basket.

Merlin threw him a grin and nodded in agreement.

Merlin and Gwaine’s blanket sat a few feet away from Arthur and Princess Adelia’s. They set out their food, and Gwaine’s eyes lit up at the dessert Merlin had packed. He placed a hand on Merlin’s shoulder and looked very seriously at him.

“You’re a wonderful person, Merlin,” he said gravely. Merlin laughed and shoved him with a light blow to his arm. He rolled his eyes at himself. Arthur must be rubbing off on him.

“Would you like some fruit?” Arthur asked the princess. “I made sure it was perfectly washed.” He smiled at her.

The princess smiled back and batted her eyes at him. “Thank you so much, _Arthur_ ,” she said. Arthur only paused for a second, but managed to push past the discomfort of the tone.

Gwaine made a silent gagging gesture to Merlin, causing Merlin to laugh around the bite of bread he had in his mouth.

Princess Adelia leaned into Arthur, who stopped dead in his picking up a piece of bread. “Are they going to be there the whole time?” she asked him.

Arthur’s eyes darted up to Gwaine and Merlin, catching Merlin’s blue eyes. He averted his gaze quickly.

“Is that a problem?” he asked. “Adelia,” he added, turning his charm back on.

“Well…” the princess trailed off suggestively, and Arthur focused on spreading some jam on his bread.

Gwaine’s quiet laugh brought Merlin’s attention from the scene, and Merlin watched him select a premade sandwich, opening it up and picking out the tomato. He popped it in his mouth, chewing slowly as Merlin waited for him to elaborate on that laugh.

“Well?” Merlin asked as Gwaine swallowed.

Gwaine looked at him, then back to Arthur and the princess. Then he took another bite of his sandwich. He chewed even more slowly. Merlin pressed his lips into a thin line. Gwaine watched as the princess leaned closer to Arthur, and Arthur shuffled, just a little, out of reach, all the while smiling charmingly. After all, he was trained since birth to be charming. Charming and deadly, but still charming. If anyone were to ask Merlin, however, he would tell them that Arthur’s charm, while fine- tuned through the proper lens of etiquette that Uther had instilled in him, was mostly all his own natural (and irritating) talent.

Merlin would even go so far as to tell that person that Arthur’s was, at times, too charming for his own good. Or at least Merlin’s own good. They wouldn’t believe how many women had tried to snatch Arthur up with insane plans that were often accompanied by an equally batty, ‘if I can’t have him, nobody can’ attitude. Arthur really was too charming for his own good. Merlin barely got to sleep when those types were around, as they usually relied on some form of magic to get Arthur within their grasp. Love potions were the most common. They often tried to slip it to him at night, which meant Merlin had to stay up all hours to ensure that Arthur’s food, drink, and the actual man himself, had no potions slipped into them unless otherwise checked by Merlin.

This, of course, could not be used as an excuse not to finish his chores, and most of the time Arthur remained blissfully unaware of the attempts  entirely. Well, except for that one with that Lady from the south which had involved an exotic peacock and a blue piece of straw, but that was a story Merlin wished to forget, so he usually didn’t allow himself to dwell on it at all.

“Poor Arthur,” Gwaine sighed.

“Oh, yeah. Poor Arthur,” Merlin said. “Having to go on a picnic with his own personal servant,” Merlin gestured to himself, “a personal guard,” he gestured to Gwaine, “because he’s the king of a prosperous kingdom that loves him, all the while dealing with beautiful princesses throwing themselves at him,” Merlin mocked. “Tragic.”

“You think she’s beautiful?” Gwaine asked in surprise.

“No, but that’s not the point,” Merlin answered.

“It’s not like he asked to be king,” Gwaine said. Merlin knew that, of course he did, but he huffed in annoyance and didn’t respond anyway. “Besides, he clearly doesn’t want anything to do with her.”

“Oh, and he’s just using that seductive smile because he wants her friendship?”

“Merlin, he’s looking at the bread,” Gwaine said, cocking an eyebrow.

“Again, not the point.”

“Do you really not know why he’s charming her?”

Merlin sighed. “Yes, of course I do.” Gwaine was now the one looking expectantly for an explanation. “He’s got to convince them to sign that treaty, and charming King Lysder’s daughter will sway him to do just that,” he said.

Gwaine leaned back on the blanket and looked at Merlin with furrowed brows, torn between amusement and confusion, apparently. “If anyone were to charm King Lysder’s daughter they’d find themselves at the end of his sword.” Gwaine sat back up. “And she’s got no say in him signing that treaty, unless she was horribly offended. So, no. That is not why he is being charming.”

“Well, why is he then?” Merlin asked, before looking to Arthur and Princess Adelia talking over their lunch. The princess was practically lying on top of Arthur and he was still being a perfectly charming gentleman. Even though he seemed a little uneasy, Merlin could clearly see it in Arthur’s smile and the way he moved his head when he talked, he was as charming as he could be at the moment.

“He’s trying to make you– ”

“Merlin,  did you bring anymore wine?” Arthur asked suddenly. Gwaine sighed as Merlin got up and got the wine bottle from the basket on the horse. Arthur looked at Gwaine to see his knight shaking his head and running a hand through his hair in apparent frustration. He got up and met Merlin half way.

Merlin handed him the wine.

“What’s with Gwaine?” Arthur asked.

Merlin glanced at Gwaine, to see him watching them with amusement. He frowned at him.

“No idea,” Merlin answered. He could have sworn Gwaine was frustrated earlier, and yet now he was amused. That man made no sense. “He was in the middle of explaining why you are working so hard to charm the princess, before you interrupted us.”

Arthur was looking at him with wide eyes.

“Seeing as you stopped him from telling me, why don’t you tell me yourself?” Merlin asked. He could see Princess Adelia sitting on the blanket when he peered past Arthur’s shoulder. She seemed put out at being ignored, and was watching Arthur intently. Merlin made a face when she adjusted her dress to push her breasts out. He returned his gaze to Arthur. “Well? Are you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Arthur asked dumbly.

“Why you’re trying so hard to charm her. I thought you didn’t like her. You were saying just yesterday morning that you couldn’t wait for her to leave,” Merlin said fiddling with the straps on the horse. “Did her love of rabbit and talent on a horse manage to sway you over to her side?” Merlin asked and it came out a little bitter. He wasn’t sure why, but it felt good. When he looked at Arthur he saw amusement in the blue eyes. Merlin felt a rush of anger. He looked at the princess, who was picking at the fruit and sneering at the dirt beyond the blanket. “Your princess is waiting, _sire_ ,” he said as he looked back to Arthur.

Arthur’s eyes were a shade darker than they had been a moment ago. Merlin cocked an eyebrow in question as Arthur stared at him.

“You’re an idiot,” Arthur said and left.

Merlin walked back to Gwaine and sat down.

“How did it go?” Gwaine asked as he tucked into the chocolate dessert.

“Like I’ve always said, he’s a prat.”

Gwaine’s smirk did nothing for Merlin’s souring mood. Neither did the out right flirting Arthur started doing with the princess.

 

 

 

 

 

When they arrived back at the castle later that afternoon, Merlin was ready to throw something at Arthur, treason be damned. He dismounted and wondered why he had ever cared about saving that prat’s life. He shouldn’t have even gone to the Land of Untold Stories. He definitely shouldn’t have taken that blow for Arthur.

“How was the trip?” Gwen asked, coming out to greet them.

Merlin glared at Arthur, who was helping Princess Adelia down from her horse. She had no trouble getting up, so why would she have trouble getting down? Arthur had been told she was an excellent rider. He did not need to go help her down. He didn’t.

“So that well, then?” Gwen asked cheerily. Merlin turned his glare on her. Gwen’s brows rose high as she took in his mood.

Gwaine walked by and leaned in to whisper something in her ear. Gwen’s eyes widened with understanding before being flooded with mirth. She and Gwaine shared a look, where she giggled and he laughed lightly. Merlin glared harder.

As the princess walked up the stairs, Gwen stopped her. “I think, Your Highness, your father would like to see you.”

The princess looked hesitant, but her concern for her father won out over more time with Arthur. But only just, Merlin noted. “Very well.” She nodded. “I’ll see you later, Arthur.” She smiled coyly.

“Of course,” Arthur responded, not only charming but seductive.

Merlin stormed inside the castle, before he was able to hear Gwen slap Arthur’s arm and say, “You stop playing with him. He’s confused enough as it is.”

 

 

 

 

 

Merlin busied himself cleaning up Arthur’s room and stoking the fire. He had half a mind to set his sheet on fire, but he held himself in check. He wasn’t sure why he was so angry, but he knew it was because Arthur was a prat. That much was clear.

When the door opened and Arthur walked in, Merlin refused to acknowledge him.

“Merlin?” Arthur asked. He sounded apologetic, which made Merlin realize Arthur knew he was in the wrong, which meant that Merlin was in the right. Which meant his anger was completely warranted. That was all Merlin needed.

He put down the shirt he was folding and headed for the door.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Arthur asked, trying for his usual arrogant tone, but missing it with the guilt in his voice.

“The tavern,” Merlin replied as he slammed the door shut behind him.

He didn’t slow his pace until he was out of the castle and in the tavern that Gwaine often talked about. He ordered a drink, then another, then another. Part of him was trying to figure out why he was so angry, while the other part told him he didn’t have to figure it out, all he had to do was curse Arthur, drink his mead, and put the bill on the prat.

“We meet again,” a familiar voice said to his left.

Merlin turned to see Kayik, in normal clothing this time, sitting beside him with his own mead. Merlin frowned.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, and it came out a bit slurred. He wanted Arthur to get the message, so he had to run up quite the bill. He’d already bought two rounds, but he wanted to really drive the point home.

“How many of those have you had?” Kayik asked, nodding to the mead in front of Merlin.

“Not enough,” Merlin replied.

“I see,” Kayik said. He glanced around the lively tavern. “As nobody is in mourning, I suspect Arthur is still alive and well for now?”

“Yes he’s– ”Merlin narrowed his eyes at the druid. “What do you mean, _for now_?”

“You’ve not drunk enough to forget our previous conversation, have you?” Kayik asked in surprise.

“No,” Merlin said, and finished his drink. He motioned to the barmaid and had another tankard placed in front of him.

“I never thought I’d see Emrys drunk.” Kayik laughed.

“Shhhh.” Merlin hushed him urgently. “Not here!”

“I’ve cast a concealment spell,” Kayik said.

Merlin frowned. He didn’t even know that was a thing.

“What do you mean, _not yet_?” he repeated, forcing himself to focus.

“Well, he’s alive, so obviously he’s not dead. And as I told you he will be, the ‘yet’ refers to when he is,” Kayik explained slowly. Merlin relaxed.

“Not happening,” he told the druid. “I stopped it.” He smiled into his tankard. Not that Arthur deserved to be saved. He glanced at the confused druid. “I went to the Land of Untold Stories, and saw where it happened, and stopped it!” Merlin told him.

“No, you didn’t,” Kayik said as he watched Merlin gulp down the mead.

“Yes, I did,” Merlin assured him. “Went into that cave an all,” Merlin said. He frowned at the memory. “Felt weird when I looked at it though. There was this… taking…”

Kayik’s eyes went wide. “You did _what_?” he asked in horror.

“I told you I’d go,” Merlin said. He was probably not in the best state of mind to defend his actions at the moment, but he was far too invested in his mead at this point to do anything about it.

“That was very dangerous,” Kayik told him, like Merlin didn’t know. He seemed angry. Seething really. Merlin didn’t care. He was too busy trying to see the bottom of his tankard.

“Worked, didn’t it,” he said, before gulping more of the cold liquid.

“No. It. Did. Not.”

Merlin sighed and turned to him. “I saw it happen in that cave, then when it was about to happen in real life, I stopped it. Therefore, Arthur is safe.” He put his empty tankard down. “I do want to go back to make sure though. I’m curious if I’ll see her in there…” Merlin said, the last part mostly to himself.

“You only altered the way and time he will die,” Kayik said, anger seeping from him. “You cannot completely change it, that is why it is so dangerous. You mess with enough of it and you will start causing havoc with the chain of events that proceed your meddling. Not to mention the damage you could do to your magic. You’ve already damaged it once, but as you are,” Kayik lowered his voice despite the concealment spell, “Emrys, you will be fine with rest. However, I cannot say what will happen if you allow your magic to be damaged too much,” he warned seriously.

“My magic feels fine,” Merlin replied, keeping his voice down. He was magic, was he not? If his magic was damaged, that just meant he was damaged, and apart from the scarred skin of his nearly fully healed wound, he was fine. “And are you telling me Arthur is still going to die?”

“Yes.”

Merlin felt a sharp stab of panic in his chest but tried to drown it out. Kayik watched him for a few seconds.

“You don’t seem to be as concerned as when we met previously,” he pointed out.

“Arthur is an arse.”

Kayak eyed Merlin and sighed. “I think some sobriety will help you understand the severity of your actions.” Kayik’s eyes flashed gold, and Merlin suddenly felt clear-headed. He looked down at his tankard and back to Kayik. His eyes widened as their conversation sank in. Kayik sighed and leaned back. “I imagine that means you’ve realized how dangerous your actions were? And you will heed my warnings in the future?”

“Arthur is going to die!” Merlin all but screeched.

“Yes,” Kayik said, frowning. “We’ve covered that bit.”

“I have to save him!”

“No. You can’t.”

“I have to go back!” Merlin said, jumping up and ignoring the druid. “I have to go back to that cave.”

“That is a very bad idea,” Kayik said, and reached out to grip Merlin by the shoulders. “You need to listen to me. Stop messing with the future.” Merlin struggled to get away, not even trying to stop the frantic urge to run right back to the Land of Untold Stories. “Listen to me! You have no idea what damage you can cause. You have no idea what I’ve had to learn about, what my master has _seen_ ,” Kayik stressed, his grip tightening painfully, and there was a horror in his eyes that Merlin forced himself to disregard. For Arthur.

“I have to save him,” Merlin said, and as his eyes glowed gold Kayik went flying backwards. Merlin ran out of the tavern, heading for the castle.

He rushed up the steps and inside. In the quiet of the night, the halls were mostly deserted. Merlin ran to Gaius and his chambers, not bothering to keep quiet as he rushed past Gaius reading on the couch. He ran into his room and found the little brown book. He tucked it into his coat, and hurried back out.

“Merlin?” Gaius asked with concern.

“Have to go!”

Merlin dashed back down the halls. He wondered if it was night or day in the Land of Untold Stories, but then realized it didn’t matter much since he’d be in that cave.

Merlin was so busy thinking about how fast he could get there, and what the cave might show him, that he turned left and bumped right into Arthur. Strong hands gripped his shoulders and pushed him an arm’s length away.

Narrowed blue eyes bored into him, and Merlin just stared back, panting from exertion.

“I thought you were at the tavern?” Arthur said, still holding on to him.

“I thought you’d gone to bed,” Merlin countered.

“I’m the king, Merlin. I can go to bed when I want to go to bed,” Arthur reminded him.

“And I’m an adult, and I can go to the tavern if I want to go to the tavern,” Merlin replied.

Arthur stared at him.

“Can you let me go?”

“No.”

“Arthur– ”

“No. It’s the middle of the night. I don’t know how you’re acting this sober, but I can smell the alcohol on your breath. We’re going to bed,” Arthur declared.

“We?” Merlin blinked.

Arthur blushed. “I meant I’m going to bed, and you’re sleeping in the chair.”

“No, I need to– ”

“The only thing you need to do in your state is rest.”

“I’m not drunk!”

Arthur cocked an eyebrow at him. “You _smell_ like a tavern.”

“That’s because I was in one, but I’m not– ”

“Lying to the king is against the law,” Arthur said, crossing his arms in amusement.

“No, it’s not,” Merlin pointed out. Arthur frowned.

“Isn’t it?”

“No.”

“I’ll have to change that,” Arthur murmured to himself.

“Now, if you’ll –“

“Sleep,” Arthur said, and proceeded to drag Merlin with him.

Merlin, even though he was no longer the skinny little thing he had been when first arriving at Camelot, was still no match for Arthur when he decided he wanted to move him. Merlin tried to pull away only once, but when Arthur’s grip tightened and became painful, he gave up. He considered using magic, but realized Arthur wasn’t _that_ oblivious.

When Arthur dragged him into his room and sat him down, Merlin fidgeted and kept looking towards the door. Arthur pulled his shirt off and got into bed.

“Don’t even think about it, Merlin,” he warned lightly, before blowing out the candle.

Merlin chewed on his lip as he tried to figure something out. He could perhaps use just a little magic on Arthur to make sure he didn’t wake up until morning. Or maybe he could use the excuse of not giving Princess Adelia her potion for the night and sneak off to bring one to slip Arthur. He frowned. How would he get him to drink it?

“Stop thinking and go to sleep,” Arthur ordered.

“How did you– ”

“I can hear you thinking from over here,” Arthur interrupted him.

“That’s not possible.”

“Shhhhhh. Sleep.”

“Prat.”

“Shhh.”

Merlin sat in the chair, not tired in the slightest as his heart was still racing and his mind kept supplying various ways Arthur could die, each worse than the last. Merlin was starting to feel sick by the time Arthur’s quiet breaths drifted to his ears. He waited a bit longer to make absolute certain that the king wouldn’t wake up, then

walked carefully to the door and slipped out into the hall.

He was going to the Land of Untold Stories tonight. He was going to find out how to save Arthur, no matter what Kayik had said. Arthur, despite what Merlin had been telling himself a few hours ago, was worth it. He was worth damaging his magic for, damaging himself for. Merlin didn’t hesitate as he walked out of the castle and down the street, on his way to the forest entrance to the Land of Untold Stories.

 

 

 

 

 

This time around, when Merlin came to the right spot in the forest, he counted fourteen paces right from the start, his hand stuck out in front of him to feel for the wall. He found it and shuffled over to the side until the cave was revealed. In the darkness, Merlin could not see the soft, bright- green grass. He conjured a ball of light, and as he had done before, sent it forward in front of himself.

As he walked into the cave, and to the little oval he had used before, he heard a low, impressed whistle.

Merlin jumped at the sound of it and turned to see Gwaine standing, leaning against the cave wall, and taking in the view. Merlin froze as his _magically conjured ball of light_ sat in the middle of the cave. Then he blinked and remembered what Gwaine had said as Merlin lay dying. Gwaine already knew about his magic. Merlin smiled carefully as he watched Gwaine eye the ball of light.

“Useful, that,” he said. “Almost matches that ball of light Arthur told me about when he– ” Gwaine smiled and cut himself off. “Never mind.”

Merlin wondered why Arthur had told Gwaine about that.

Gwaine walked over to one of the thick, short rocks, and inspected it. His eyes went over the pebbles on the ground, and the ovals of discolored grass that were outlined in shiny white stones. He went to one, as Merlin had, and stuck one hand out quickly before retracting it just as fast. When nothing happened except for Merlin laughing, Gwaine smiled.

With a shake of his head he stepped into the oval.

“What are you doing here?” Merlin asked. He watched as Gwaine glanced around the cave. Merlin frowned and stepped out of the oval to approach him.

“Arthur asked me to keep an eye on you,” he said. “He seems to think you are not in a stable state of mind,” he informed him, and made a drinking gesture.

“I’m fine,” Merlin frowned.

“I can see that,” Gwaine answered.

“Wait, Arthur told you to follow me?”

“Basically, yeah,” Gwaine said, looking at the cave ceiling. “He said you waited for him to fall asleep and then sneaked out.” Gwaine looked back at Merlin. “He woke me up to order me to come after you.”

“Why didn’t he just come after me himself?”

“I think he’s got a whole dramatic speech prepared for when we go back,” Gwaine said. “That’ll be after we go wherever it is you were planning on going.” He smiled at Merlin.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Not going to the Land of Untold Stories then?”

Merlin gaped at him.

“You know what that is?”

“Of course, I did do a lot of traveling before I came to Camelot, remember,” Gwaine said with a frown as if that were obvious. “You hear things.”

“I thought it was some tight- lipped secret,” Merlin said.

“It is. You’ve got to make friends with the right people.” Gwaine smiled.

“And you did?”

Gwaine’s smile turned into a grin. “That’s how you keep things interesting.”

Merlin rolled his eyes.

“So I take it you know how to get there?”

“Yes.”

“And why are we going?”

“ _We_ aren’t,” Merlin said. “I’ve had too many warnings about this place to let you come with me. One of us has to go back to Arthur.”

“And you’re so sure I want to go back without you?” Gwaine laughed. “I am not facing Arthur Pendragon without a Merlin to show for it. Especially if it’s to tell him he’s lost forever.”

“He’ll get over it,” Merlin sighed.

“Yeah, about the same time Gaius will wear a dress and become a world class ballet dancer,” Gwaine said casually with a shrug. Merlin couldn’t stop the laugh that came out of him at the image, and Gwaine smiled at him. “Really, you’ve got to be mad if you think I’ll let you go by yourself,” he said.

“I’ve gone before.”

“Yes, but now I’m here to protect your precious self,” Gwaine said and bowed down. Merlin rolled his eyes at him again. “Do you have any idea how unmanageable Arthur would be without you?” Gwaine made a face at the thought. Merlin had to admit he had a point. “Besides, I’ve always wanted to go, and it’s not fair that you get all the adventures.”

Merlin stared at him for a moment, but could see a glint of stubbornness in Gwaine’s eyes. He sighed. “Fine,” he agreed. “Stubborn knights,” he muttered as he went back to his oval.

Gwaine laughed and flipped his hair back. He went back to the oval he had stepped into. “Ready,” he said.

Merlin nodded and said the spell.

Nothing happened.

Gwaine cocked an eyebrow.

Merlin tried again. Again, nothing happened.

Merlin sighed in frustration. This could not be happening. What had he done last time to make it work? Which pronunciation had he used? Did he do anything differently? Was here a different spell to use for Gwaine? Was there something else he had to do to take them both there?

Merlin flipped through the little brown book to see if there was anything that would help him. There was just the spell written on the paper. Nothing else. He sighed and felt like kicking something.

“It’s not working,” he told Gwaine.

“Are you focusing on the reason you want to go?” Gwaine asked.

“What?”

“I remember someone mentioning it would only work if you had a ‘true and loyal purpose’ or something like that,” Gwaine said frowning as he thought.

“Arthur…” Merlin said to himself.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. I’m trying again.”

This time when Merlin said the spell, he concentrated on the thought of Arthur dead. He thought about how awful it was, and how much it hurt him. He thought about his desperation to save Arthur, and how important it was that he keep the king safe. He thought about how much he cared about him.

A brightness enveloped Merlin and Gwaine, a blinding whiteness that warmed their skin and spread through their bodies. Just as before, Merlin felt the Land of Untold Stories before he saw it. The warm breeze was cooler than it had been the last time.

When the whiteness dissipated, Merlin was faced with darkness. The city was shrouded in night, without a single light source but the moon in the sky.

Gwaine whistled again.

“That’s got to be beautiful in the day,” he remarked.

“It is,” Merlin said.

He started walking towards the river. Gwaine followed.

“So what kind of business _do_ you have here?” Gwaine asked. “It’s got to be something to do with Arthur, right?”

“Yes,” Merlin said. He glanced to Gwaine and swallowed.

“Whatever it is, I’m here to help,” Gwaine told him. Merlin smiled. He knew, but it still hurt to say out loud.

As they walked down the city streets, he told Gwaine everything that he knew from Kayik, Gaius, the book, and his own findings. He also had to explain about being Emrys. By the time he’d finished explaining everything in detail, they’d arrived at the dock.

Gwaine untied the boat from its mooring, and Merlin hopped in and grabbed the paddles. Merlin’s eyes flashed gold and the boat moved. They sat in silence as Merlin let his magic row them across the river. Gwaine looked deep in thought.

“You haven’t told Arthur about the prophecy?”

“What am I supposed to say?” Merlin asked, unsure which prophecy he meant. Did it really matter? “I haven’t even told him I have magic.”

“I can’t believe he doesn’t know.” Gwaine shook his head.

“You thought I told him?”

“Well, yeah,” Gwaine said and gave Merlin an obvious look. “You’re together constantly. It’s part of who you are, Merlin. How do you keep that from him?”

Merlin sighed and looked down at the water. He thought of all the times he’d used his magic for Arthur. All the times he’s seen people killed for using magic in Camelot. He thought about all the moments he could have told Arthur. All the moments he might have come clean and seen if the one person that meant the most to him would have looked at him with hate and disgust, or accepted him for who he was. Merlin was too scared to take the risk. Not if it meant he was killed for it. Not if it meant he couldn’t keep protecting Arthur. No matter how much it hurt to keep this from him.

“It’s not easy,” he whispered.

The boat knocked gently into the dock. Merlin and Gwaine got out. Gwaine tied the boat up to the dock as Merlin stared up at the castle above them.

“Which way?” Gwaine asked.

“This way,” Merlin said, nodding towards the houses. “We’ve got to go up there,” he said, and pointed to the castle. Gwaine sighed.

“That’s a long walk.”

Merlin smiled. “You’re going to love the ride.”

They walked towards the houses, and into town. They passed the first fort, and headed to the building labelled ‘incline.’ Merlin glanced back to see Gwaine eyeing the sign and building. He grinned at him and pushed through the door.

The long marble desk and roped off section that wound towards it were just as they had been before. Merlin made his way to the box on the counter as Gwaine took everything in. Merlin went to the large machine behind the counter with the thick handle.

“Watch this,” Merlin said and cranked the handle.

As a ticket was pushed out of the slot, Gwaine’s eyes widened. Merlin smiled and pulled it out, and the machine made a high-pitched ringing noise. Merlin handed it over to Gwaine.

He watched Gwaine read: _Incline – One Round Trip Ticket_

Merlin cranked the handle again for himself, then made his way over to the large wooden door. He glanced back to see Gwaine opening the box and pulling out some of the gold coins.

“Gwaine!” Merlin chastised.

“It’s not like they’re getting used,” Gwaine argued.

Merlin glared at him until he put them back.

Gwaine made his way over, ticket in hand, and no gold coins. Merlin pulled the door open and let Gwaine go out onto the platform first. Gwaine immediately walked up to the large machine and poked it.

“What is it?”

“No idea.” Merlin walked over to the orb that hung above the gap. “Come on,” he said.

Gwaine walked over and watched as Merlin opened the door, which popped. Merlin pushed him forward, and Gwaine stepped inside, looking down at his feet as if he expected it to shatter.

Merlin smirked with understanding and stepped fully inside. He motioned for Gwaine to sit down on the sleek surface, as he went to the little metal tower with the slot on top that sat in the middle of the orb.

Merlin slipped his ticket inside, and managed not to jump back when the tower sucked it in and the door suddenly slammed shut. Gwaine, on the other hand, jumped to his feet.

“What was that?” he asked in alarm.

“Give me your ticket,” Merlin asked. Gwaine handed him his ticket as he watched the door, as if he was waiting for it to open again. “Hold on to something or go sit down,” Merlin instructed him. Gwaine went back to his seat as Merlin held onto the tower and stuck Gwaine’s ticket in.

The orb moved with a rough jerk, but this time Merlin was prepared and only stumbled slightly. Gwaine jolted and his eyes snapped to Merlin for reassurance. Merlin smiled at him and went to sit down.

He watched the ground as they moved.  Gwaine was rigid beside him, staring open- mouthed as they were taken higher and higher above the city.

When the orb jerked to a stop at the top of the hill, Gwaine looked torn between awe and terror. The former won out and he grinned at Merlin.

“Well, that was fun,” he said. “Can we do it again?”

“On the way back,” Merlin said, as the glass orb’s door popped open once again and he stood. Gwaine followed him as he stepped out of the transportation orb.

They walked down the cobblestone path trailed in front of them, and up to the grand entrance of the white castle. Gwaine pointed at the two waving flags hung either side of the large wooden door.

“Reminds me a bit of Camelot,” Gwaine said, and Merlin nodded.

“This way,” he said.

They walked the long hall of the castle in silence. Gwaine peered into every room they passed, whistling as he took in various impressive things. Merlin completely agreed. It really was a grand castle. The wealth that had built the place was evident even in the moldings.

They walked further down the hall until Merlin felt the whip of a cold draft on his skin. Beside him Gwaine shivered. He turned to the white brick door that was still standing ajar as Merlin had left it.

“In there?” Gwaine asked.

“Yep.” Merlin nodded.

Gwaine opened the door and held it for Merlin. “Since you know where you’re going, you should probably lead the way,” he said.

“Right.” Merlin conjured the ball of light again before starting to walk down the staircase.

After the long walk down the stairs, they reached the bottom. It was colder than Merlin remembered. Probably from the nighttime chill. He hoped his light was bright enough to see the streams.

“This land is creepy,” Gwaine said, glancing around the cave hall.

“It’s not that bad outside,” Merlin said.

“Not that bad? Didn’t you feel that emptiness when we were walking through the city? It’s abandoned, like everyone and everything just disappeared.”

“It’s a little lonely, but it isn’t creepy.”

“It feels like something unspeakable happened here,” Gwaine said.

Merlin remembered the look in Kayik’s eyes. “It did.”

When they arrived at the actual cave, Merlin motioned for Gwaine to stop.

“Wow,” Gwaine whispered as he took it in.

Merlin’s breath rushed out of him at the view. The cave’s streams of liquid were glowing. As if they emanated light. As if they _were_ light. It was beautiful. In the pitch dark, they flowed in brightness, as if they were hope and life itself.

“So I’m guessing we’ve got to get to that thing,” Gwaine said, nodding to the large basin carved of rock in the center of the room.

“Yeah,” Merlin said and then paused. How would Gwaine’s presence effect the cave? What streams would it show? “You should stay here.”

“Whatever you think is best,” Gwaine said, and leaned against the cave wall.

Merlin stepped into the cave and was happy to see that once again the majority of the streams disappeared. He walked further into the cave and looked around. The streams, as far as Merlin could tell were all slightly different. He supposed that was because of all the decisions that had been made over the past few weeks.

He moved over to the basin and picked a green phial up from the small indentation with two shelves underneath it. He walked around the cave to see if there were any streams that showed anything to him. There were flashes of Arthur and some of himself. Nothing of importance. He saw Arthur yelling in one. He saw him eating dinner in another. He saw himself being dragged off somewhere in a third. He saw a lot of Arthur throwing things at him.

Suddenly, the streams changed. Merlin froze as almost all of them disappeared and the new ones that popped up were running at different angles and paces. They included flashes of Gwaine. Merlin looked over to see Gwaine had stepped into the cave and was examining a stream.

“Gwaine!” Merlin called out.

Gwaine wasn’t listening but there was an odd look in his eyes. Like they were glazed over. Merlin walked over to him and poked him hard on the shoulder.

“Gwaine!” he tried again.

“Look,” Gwaine breathed.

Merlin looked, and saw a flash of Gwaine in the stream but couldn’t tell what was happening. “I don’t see anything, Gwaine. What is going on? Gwaine? Gwaine?”

“It’s… I need…” Gwaine trailed off as he reached up to touch the liquid. Merlin grabbed his hand.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he told him.

“ _Need_ ,” Gwaine whined and ripped his arm away.

Merlin grabbed at his wrist again, and Gwaine turned glazed eyes to him. Merlin remembered Kayik and Gaius’s warnings and sucked in a breath. He didn’t know exactly what was happening to Gwaine, but he knew something that would definitely help.

Merlin’s eyes flashed gold and Gwaine dropped to the floor, unconscious. Merlin sighed. He bent down over his friend, and hoped he had been able to shake him out of his stupor.

“Gwaine?” he called. Gwaine didn’t move. “Gwaine.”

Brown eyes fluttered open and Merlin smiled.

“What the hell did you do to me?” Gwaine asked.

“You were acting odd,” Merlin told him.

“So you knocked me out?”

“It worked.”

He helped Gwaine to his feet. Gwaine rubbed his head where he’d bashed it on the ground. He glared halfheartedly at Merlin. Merlin smiled back sheepishly.

Gwaine looked at the streams around him, but his eyes didn’t glaze over. He did seem intrigued by one and walked over. Merlin followed in case he went all… odd again. Gwaine pointed to a section of the stream.

“Do you see that?” he asked. Merlin shook his head.

“I think you can only see what relates to you,” he told him.

“Is this real? Is this really my future?” Gwaine asked.

“Maybe. It’s a possible future. Why? What do you see?”

“A gorgeous woman smiling at me with a very suggestive look,” Gwaine grinned.

Merlin rolled his eyes.

Gwaine’s eyes scanned the other streams. He walked over to another and pointed again. “Do you see this one? I see you in it.”

Merlin looked at it and nodded. He did see himself. He was looking happy, and so was Gwaine. He also saw Gwen and Lancelot. Specifically, Gwen and Lancelot kissing.

“I always knew they were meant to be,” Gwaine said.

“Too bad they don’t know it,” Merlin joked.  “I hope this one comes true.”

Gwaine squinted at the stream. “What do you reckon that purple thing is?”

“No idea. A flower?”

Gwaine shook his head. “No, looks more like something man made.”

“Well, whatever it is, I hope it comes true. I’m so sick of seeing them making eyes at each other,” Merlin said. “It’s getting ridiculous. Sometimes I have to stop myself from yelling at them to just kiss already!”

Gwaine gave him a heavy look.

“What?”

Gwaine patted his shoulder. “One of these days you’ll know,” he said, and walked off to examine the other streams.

Merlin frowned.

He turned to ask Gwaine what he meant when he caught sight of another stream with Arthur inside. He felt a darkness inside him as he looked at Arthur’s face in the stream. He walked over and dipped the phial in the liquid. The glowing liquid filled the phial quickly.

Merlin took it to the basin and poured it out. He was vaguely aware of Gwaine still wandering around. He focused his attention on the basin and sighed as he prepared himself. He glanced to Gwaine, who had gone back to the stream with the girl in it.

“You might want to see this.”

“Is this where we see the future?”

“Yes.” Merlin hesitated as he remembered the awful taking feeling. He thought about what Kayik said about damaging his magic. He swallowed nervously.

“Merlin?”

“If – if something happens to me, will you take my body back to Camelot?” he asked quietly.

“What’s going to happen?”

Merlin swallowed.

“I don’t know.”

Merlin and Gwaine locked eyes, and Merlin wasn’t sure what else to say. He had to do this, but he didn’t know what would happen if he damaged his magic enough. He didn’t know if he wanted to, but he knew he had to go through with it. For Arthur.

“Okay,” Gwaine said.

Merlin turned back to the basin and put his hand on the cold rock. He looked at the glowing liquid and sighed shakily, mentally preparing himself for the sensation. Gwaine’s hand gripped his shoulder in support. Merlin smiled at him in thanks, but shrugged him off, unsure how it would effect Gwaine when he started the ritual. Gwaine let his hand drop, but didn’t step back.

Merlin pushed some of his magic into the basin, and almost immediately the something gripped his magic with sharp claws and _pulled_.

Despite preparing himself, Merlin’s scream echoed in the cave, and his knees gave out. Gwaine grabbed hold of him, but Merlin couldn’t even push him away as he screamed again. The claws dug in further, and Merlin felt something break. He felt hot tears on his cheeks but he refused to let go of the basin.

When Merlin was released, he fell backwards. Gwaine caught him, and called his name, but Merlin was shaking too hard to reply. He let Gwaine hold him up until he could reach for the basin again to steady himself.

“Look,” he rasped out, and Gwaine looked to see the liquid seemingly boil.

Gwaine reached in slowly and withdrew his hand to look at the glowing drops on his finger. “It’s cold,” he said.

“But look,” Merlin urged.

Like before, an image grew from a small dot until it filled the entire basin, and the liquid calmed. The image showed an apple. A shiny red apple.

Merlin and Gwaine frowned at it. Then they saw Arthur for a split second, happy and unharmed, before a sharp blade impaled his skull.

Gwaine stumbled back in shock.

Merlin felt like he was going to be sick, but was unable to look away as he watched the blood trickle down Arthur’s head, his dead eyes staring back in shock.

“It doesn’t tell us when,” Gwaine said.

“I know,” Merlin replied in a hoarse voice.

The image went back to the apple, and started all over again. Gwaine paced in the cave. Merlin closed his eyes as he realized Kayik was right. He had not saved Arthur. Maybe he never could. But he could at least postpone his death. He could get them more time.

 Merlin opened his eyes to look at the shining red apple. Whatever chain of events would cause Arthur’s death this time would somehow involve an apple. Merlin watched the scene play out again, wondering if there was a spell to rid Camelot of all its apples.  

 

“We need to get back to Camelot,” Merlin said.

“We need more information!” Gwaine said. “One of these streams has to have something in it. Start searching over there, and I’ll look over here,” he instructed as he made to leave to his self-designated search area.

Merlin caught his arm. “No, there is nothing else. Each stream represents a different future. I think this one is the one we’re in,” he said.

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Merlin looked at the basin. “I can’t explain it.”

Gwaine sighed. “Part of that whole Emrys thing?”

Merlin didn’t respond. He didn’t know. He was so sick of not knowing.

“Come on,” he said instead, and headed out the cave.

Gwaine followed reluctantly behind him, and they were silent the rest of the way back to Camelot

 

 

 

 

 

Merlin pushed open the door to Arthur’s chambers just as the sun was starting to rise. He turned slowly on the spot once inside, and closed the door gently. He glanced at Arthur’s bed to make sure he didn’t stir, and was happy to see a bulge under the sheets. With evidence that Arthur was safe and sound, Merlin decided to get some much needed sleep. Arthur even had his back to Merlin, and his entire body was covered, his head probably stuck under the pillow. Merlin smiled at his luck. He must have fell asleep waiting for them, which meant it very possible that he’d forget about that dramatic speech Gwaine said he probably had planned. At least Merlin hopped he’d forget.

Merlin tiptoed to the desk, and eased the chair back little by little. When it was just far enough away from the desk for him to slip in, he slowly slid himself onto the cushion and shifted until he got comfortable. With his head tucked to his chest, Merlin folded his arms and let his eyes shut, welcoming a few hours of sleep.

The cold tip of a blade to his neck had Merlin’s eyes popping open and his body freezing. He stared ahead, wide- eyed, as he felt the sharp sword graze against his neckerchief and up to his cheek. Merlin’s eyes darted to Arthur’s still sheet covered sleeping form, wondering if he could knock the intruder out with magic without him waking up.

The intruder stepped around him, blocking Arthur from view. Merlin saw a leather jacket over a white shirt, dark brown trousers, and a pair of brown boots. The weapon made its way underneath his chin as Merlin stared at the jacket.

He knew that jacket.

His eyes slid up the intruder’s body, taking in a broad chest to go with broad shoulders, a golden, clean- shaven neck, a square jaw, pursed lips, and a pair of narrowed blue eyes.

Arthur.

Merlin opened his mouth but Arthur added a little bit of pressure to his sword, reminding Merlin of his delicate position. Merlin closed his mouth.

“Where were you?” Arthur demanded, in the heavily suspicious tone that Merlin had only ever heard directed at him.

“Me? I’ve been right here,” Merlin lied, looking at Arthur innocently. “Sleeping.”

The blade pressed in a little more. Merlin tried not to move.

“No, you weren’t. You left. I saw you leave. So where were you?”

“The kitchens. I was thirsty,” Merlin answered.

“It took you _all night_ to get a drink?” Arthur asked disbelievingly.

“I was really thirsty,” Merlin stressed.

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” Merlin answered, aiming for a tone that made it seem like Arthur was the odd one for asking any of these questions. Merlin hoped his years of lying (and didn’t that just add to the guilt) would make him better at it.

“Gwaine?” Arthur called.

Merlin watched as Gwaine walked in the door. He gave him a questioning look, but Gwaine’s expression gave nothing away. Arthur let the sword drop, and he sheathed it as Gwaine walked over to the table where Merlin still sat. Arthur turned to Gwaine.

“Last night, after Merlin tried to sneak off, and in doing so disobeyed a direct order,” Arthur paused to look at Merlin. “Not to mention he is terrible at doing anything subtle, so why he thought he could get away with this right under my nose, I don’t know,” Arthur said, giving a severe look to Merlin before returning to Gwaine. “I went to your room and told you to follow Merlin,” Arthur stated.

Gwaine nodded. Merlin looked between Gwaine and Arthur. Was Gwaine going to tell him? He tried to catch his friend’s eye, but Gwaine’s gaze was on Arthur or the floor. Arthur walked around to the back of Merlin, and placed his hands on the chair. Merlin resisted the urge to twist around to look at him, and instead focused on internally willing Gwaine to look at him.

“Did you obey that order?” Arthur asked.

“I did,” Gwaine answered.

“So, you know where Merlin was all night?” Arthur asked.

“I do,” Gwaine replied.

Arthur leaned down so his face was beside Merlin’s. Merlin glanced sideways at him, but Arthur’s eyes were still on Gwaine as he spoke. “So, will I have to ask Gwaine where you went, Merlin, or will you tell me yourself?” he asked.

Merlin said nothing.

Arthur sighed. “Very well.” He straightened and walked back to the side of Merlin. “Gwaine, where was Merlin last night?” he asked, eyes on Merlin.

“With me,” Gwaine answered confidently.

Arthur faltered, and his gaze snapped to Gwaine. “What?”

“Merlin was with me.”

Arthur stared at him in shock, that little slack-jawed expression on his face that Merlin couldn’t help finding cute. He didn’t think Arthur would appreciate being called cute – fearsome warrior image and all that – but that’s exactly how he looked. And a little stupid. Perhaps more adorable than cute, Merlin pondered as he tilted his head at Arthur.

“All night?” Arthur asked.

“All night,” Gwaine confirmed.

There was that slack-jawed expression again.

“But– ”

Merlin and Gwaine waited as Arthur gathered himself. Gwaine didn’t help when he finally looked at Merlin and winked at him. Merlin couldn’t help the blush and little smile that came to his face. Gwaine’s ridiculous innuendos were going to be the death of him.

When Merlin checked to see if Arthur had recovered from the shock of his little spy plan falling apart, he was met by a tense, jaw- locked Arthur with hard eyes. Merlin cocked an eyebrow at him, and when the blue gaze went to him, he had to avert his eyes to look at Gwaine to avoid the intensity.

“Out,” Arthur spat.

“Sire?” Gwaine asked in thinly vailed amusement.

“You’re dismissed, Gwaine,” Arthur stated coldly.

Gwaine arched an eyebrow at Merlin, and Merlin smiled back at him, equally amused at Arthur’s prudishness. Merlin almost laughed. Arthur had never been this concerned with propriety before, and it made Merlin wonder if it was the princess who had brought it on, or if he’d just never noticed it.

As Gwaine walked to the door, Arthur went over to the window. Merlin recognized it as his crisis pose as he saw him lean against the wall and peer out at the empty courtyard below. Merlin rolled his eyes.

“See you later, Merlin,” Gwaine winked again. “We can get a drink at that tavern I told you about.” He smiled.

“Yea– ”

“Gwaine,” Arthur called out, cutting Merlin off as the knight opened the door. “You’ve been slacking off this past week. You’ll be having extra training this week, starting after lunch and going until night fall.”

“That’s not fair!” Merlin said, turning to look at Arthur. Arthur didn’t turn around. “He’s been working just as hard as everyone else. You can’t make him do that just because we spent the night together. He’ll overwork his muscles,” Merlin said, thinking of it from a physician’s standpoint. 

Arthur didn’t move a muscle. Merlin looked to Gwaine to see how he was taking this, and saw the knight shake his head. Merlin frowned. What had he done wrong? He went over his words in his head.

_Spent the night together_.

Oh.

Merlin rolled his eyes at Gwaine. Arthur was such a prude.

“If you’re late it’ll be two weeks,” Arthur stated hollowly.

“Yes, sire,” Gwaine replied, and sent Merlin a look he didn’t understand before walking out.

Merlin turned to Arthur.

“That was uncalled for,” he said.

“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur said quietly. It almost sounded sad.

Merlin frowned. He stood up and went over to Arthur. Arthur didn’t move. He didn’t even seem like he was aware of anything around him. Merlin couldn’t see his eyes, but he could tell Arthur wasn’t staring at anything in particular. Merlin waited for him to turn around. He didn’t. His shoulders looked slumped, and Merlin wished he knew why Arthur’s moods kept changing like this.

“Arthur?”

“Princess Adelia and King Lysder wish to go shopping in the market today,” Arthur said, ignoring the question in Merlin’s voice, as he moved away from the window. He went over to his dresser and opened it. “They’re expecting us in an hour.”

“Yes, I know,” Merlin said, looking worriedly at the king as he searched the dresser.

“Where are my boots?!” Arthur boomed in anger.

“Which ones?” Merlin asked cautiously, watching as Arthur slammed the dresser door closed, breathing heavier than he was a few moments ago.

“The brown ones!” he yelled.

“On your feet… sire,” Merlin said, looking to Arthur’s boots.

Arthur looked down.

“Arth– ”

“Get my black ones,” Arthur ordered and walked to his desk. He roughly shuffled some papers around, and Merlin would have bet it was just for something to do. He hesitated to leave the king in this state. “ _Now_ , Merlin,” Arthur ordered again.

“Yes, sire,” he replied and walked out to find Arthur’s favorite black boots. He hoped he had shined them.

When Merlin returned with the pair in hand, freshly shined, Arthur was no longer in his room. Merlin looked around in confusion. He went over to the bed, still looking like a sleeping Arthur was in it, and pulled back the sheet.

Two pillows, several rumpled shirts, and a pair of breeches were molded into a rough shape of Arthur’s body. Merlin sighed and folded the clothing up before putting them back where they belonged. He made the bed before heading down to the dining hall to see if Arthur was taking breakfast with his guests.

 

 

 

 

 

Arthur was sitting at the table talking with King Lysder when Merlin entered the dining hall. His king made sure not to look at him, and Merlin pretended not to notice. He walked over to Arthur’s chair and stood behind him, just as the servants brought in their breakfast.

The princess looked at the fruit tray with suspicion, and then examined the plate she had. Merlin wanted to roll his eyes at her, but kept that urge in check lest her father or Arthur see. He watched as she spent a good couple of minutes picking out each item that went on her plate. He also did not miss her rubbing the edge of her cup with her serviette.

As Arthur started to eat, Merlin moved forward to pour him some water, but before he could, another servant stepped in ahead of him. Merlin paused and stared at the girl. She wouldn’t look back at him, but a faint blush rose to her cheeks.

Arthur said nothing.

Merlin stepped back and stared at the back of his head. Childish prat.

“I hear there is an excellent blacksmith in town,” King Lysder said. “You must take us to visit while we are in the market,” he told Arthur.

“It would be my pleasure,” Arthur replied. He looked at the princess. “We’ve got some fine jewelry and wonderful seamstresses as well; I am sure you will enjoy seeing all of the materials available,” he said.

“I couldn’t possibly try something on if another person could just walk by and do the same at any time,” she replied as she took a dainty sip from her now thoroughly cleaned glass.

 

“Yes, Adelia doesn’t like to take the risk that someone may have dirtied it without it being spotted,” her father replied, as if that made any sense.

“You never know how clean other people are, do you?” the princess said.

Merlin wondered just what the people in her kingdom were like.

“I suppose not,” Arthur replied, and Merlin could tell by his voice he was thinking the same.

“Oh, lovely,” Princess Adelia said as a plate of apples was placed in front of her.

Shining red apples.

Merlin’s eyes went wide. The images from the cave flashed in his mind, and he stared at the innocent fruit. Their skin as red as the blood that had seeped from Arthur’s forehead. Merlin’s heart raced and he felt himself pale.

“I love apples in the morning,” the princess said, and reached forward. She shined it with her serviette a little longer than necessary before taking a bite. “Father,” she said after swallowing, “you must try these.”

“Yes, they’re in season,” Arthur agreed. “In fact, I think I’ll have some myself.”

“No!” Merlin yelled before he could think of it and rushed forward to slap the apple from Arthur’s hands.

“Merlin!” Arthur yelled as the fruit fell to the ground and rolled away. A servant girl bent down to pick it up as Arthur turned to glare at Merlin. King Lysder and Princess Adelia turned to look as well, surprise on their faces. “You _idiot_ , what do you think you’re doing?” Arthur asked.

Merlin froze, eyes darting between all three royals.

“I– ”

Arthur looked at him expectantly.

“I– ”

Merlin looked to see King Lysder unimpressed and the princess amused. He looked back at Arthur to see him glaring still. Merlin swallowed.

“I saw a worm in it,” Merlin said lamely.

“A worm?!” Princess Adelia screeched, and dropped her apple in horror.

“No,” Arthur said, turning to her. “There is no worm,” he assured her.

“Then why did he say there was one? Why did he hit it from your hand?” she asked, looking untrustingly at her apple.

“Because he’s an idiot, and I have no idea. Merlin?” Arthur asked, turning once again to look at Merlin.

“Are you sure?” Princess Adelia asked.

“Servant girl,” King Lysder said, beckoning the girl who had picked up the apple. “Come here.”

The girl walked over obediently. She handed the apple over without being asked. Once the king took it, she stepped back.

King Lysder turned it over in his hand, seeing, as Merlin knew, no worm or hole. Not a single imperfection on that shiny red apple of death.

“Oh look at that,” Merlin said lightly. “My mistake.”

 “See, my dear?” King Lysder said to his daughter, ignoring Merlin and showing her the apple.

The princess didn’t look completely convinced, and Merlin was sure she wouldn’t take another bite of her apple just in case, but it at least looked like she wouldn’t be sick at the thought of the bite she had already taken.

King Lysder looked up to meet Merlin’s eyes. “There better be a good reason that you scared my daughter like that,” he said to Merlin, a threat in his voice.

“You’ll have to forgive him,” Arthur said, sending another glare Merlin’s way. “He’s a bit of a simpleton,” he told them.

“I thought I saw something,” Merlin said, trying to sound sheepish.

“I assure you those apples are perfectly good,” Arthur told the princess. He reached forward and took another apple, and Merlin’s heart skipped a beat in fear. Arthur held up the apple for her to see. He moved it to his mouth, and Merlin panicked.

With his eyes flashing gold, Merlin had the apple drop from Arthur’s grasp. It rolled off the table and onto the floor. The same serving girl bent and picked it up.

Arthur frowned.

“I heard apples can be slippery if they’ve been infected with– ”

“No, no,” Arthur cut her off. “They are perfectly good. Like I said.”

He reached for another one. Merlin rushed forward.

“Allow me, sire,” he said and plucked the entire platter from the table.

“Thank you, Merlin,” Arthur said, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

As Merlin turned to present the platter to Arthur, he faked a trip and the apples went flying. They scattered across the floor, going in every direction, the servants scrambling to pick them up. The silver platter itself clattered to the floor loudly, eliciting a startled yelp from the princess and even causing King Lysder to flinch.

“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur said, turning angry eyes to him.

“I am so sorry. I’m just so clumsy. Tripping over my own feet. My mother always said I had two left ones, and it seems she was right,” Merlin babbled, until Arthur raised a hand to shut him up.

“Never mind. Go fetch some more from the kitchens,” Arthur instructed him. He glanced to the servants still picking the apples up. “On second thought, have someone else carry them.”

“No,” Merlin replied quickly.

“No?” Arthur challenged.

“I mean, I can’t.”

“And why not?”

“We’ve run out.”

“You’ve not even checked.”

“Yes, I did.” Merlin glanced away at the table. “Before. Before I came down. We’ve run out. That was the last of them.”

“Mer– ”

“Don’t worry, sire, I’ll talk with the kitchen and have someone sent out right away to get more,” he cut Arthur off.

“Is he always like this?” the princess asked, eyeing Merlin.

“Unfortunately,” Arthur answered, looking at Merlin.

“I can’t tell if he irritates me or amuses me,” King Lysder wondered aloud.

“I have the same problem,” Arthur replied, eyes still stuck on Merlin.

Merlin smiled.

“All part of my charm,” he told them.

Arthur ignored this and turned to the king and his daughter. “As breakfast seems to have come to a premature end, would you like to leave now for the market?”

“I don’t see why not,” King Lysder replied.

They all got up from their seats, and headed for the door. Arthur stuck his hand out, stopping Merlin as he walked forward, his back to Merlin still. He leaned back and turned his head slightly to Merlin.

“If you do not behave today, I’ll put you in the stocks for a month,” he threatened. Without waiting for Merlin to reply he walked off after the two visiting nobles.

Merlin followed, eyeing a shiny red apple that had rolled under the table.

 

 

 

 

 

The market was busy as usual. As Arthur walked through the streets with King Lysder and Princess Adelia beside him, Merlin trailing behind, the crowd parted for him. They smiled and nodded respectfully to him. Some went as far as bowing and curtseying. Arthur smiled broadly at them, and greeted them as usual, being his charming kingly self.

“Your people seem to adore you,” Princess Adelia noted as they stopped at a stand with various fabrics on display.

“And why would they not adore a great king,” King Lysder said with a genuine smile. Arthur smiled back.

“Thank you. I am sure the same can be said about you,” Arthur replied. “I would love to visit your kingdom someday. I hear it is breathtaking in winter.”

“You should see the lake when it freezes over,” the princess said before her father could answer. “It is gorgeous.” She smiled slyly at him. Her father was too preoccupied with rubbing a dark blue fabric between his fingers to see. “You shall have to come visit the next winter. The castle can be rather cold at times, but I’m sure between the two of us we can find a way to keep warm.”

Arthur laughed uncomfortably, and Merlin glared at the back of the princess’s head.

“I am afraid I cannot this winter,” Arthur said. “Do you like this?” he asked, holding out a random fabric towards her. It wasn’t a subtle change of subject in the least, but Merlin supposed subtlety was never one of Arthur’s strengths.

“I dislike red,” the princess said.

“Oh,” Arthur said, and dropped the fabric.

Merlin stared at the girl. It wasn’t a secret that Arthur’s favorite color was red. Especially considering how many shirts he had in the color. In Pendragon red, specifically. There was that, as well. Pendragon red. As in their color. Camelot’s signature color.

She couldn’t even bother to lie about liking it? Merlin wondered if that was due to stupidity, stubbornness, or something else entirely.

“However,” she said, flashing a coy smile at Arthur that made Merlin frown. “I do think it would look dashing on you,” she told him, and put the fabric up to Arthur’s face.

Arthur laughed.

“I’ve got far too much red in my wardrobe, I’m afraid. Ask Merlin, and he’ll tell you,” he told her with a smile.

The princess gave Merlin a cold glance before turning back to Arthur, coy smile in place and voice sweet. “I wasn’t asking, I was telling,” she said, batting her eyes.

Arthur laughed uncomfortably again.

“I suppose one can never have enough Pendragon Red,” he said and went to take the fabric.

Princess Adelia pulled it away from his reach at the last minute. “Allow me.” She smiled. Merlin watched as she took the fabric and draped it over Arthur’s shoulder. She smoothed her hand down it, and therefore down Arthur’s chest, sighing a little.

Merlin suddenly understood Arthur’s reaction earlier. This break of propriety was absolutely unacceptable. How dare she say these things? Touch him like that? At least Merlin and Gwaine hadn’t done _that_. Not to mention that they were just joking. Princess Adelia did not sound like she was joking in the slightest.

When Merlin looked up from her hand lingering on Arthur’s chest and caught Arthur’s startled blue eyes starting at him, he didn’t bother to hide the glare. Arthur, in the blink of an eye, changed completely.

He turned his body, leaning into her touch and bent his head just a little to be close to her. His eyes softened and a charming coy smile came to his own lips. He brought his hand to the fabric, and stroked down, to feel it, his hand stopping when his fingertips brushed against hers.

She looked up into his eyes, and he smirked at her. Merlin continued to glare, his hands balled into fists.

They were in public! Her father was right there! What did they think they were playing at? What did _Arthur_ think he was playing at?

“Do you think it’ll be warm enough come winter?” Arthur asked.

“Oh, I’d say so. It won’t be your only source of heat, anyway” She smirked.

“No,” Arthur said, matching her look. “I suppose it won’t.”

“Adelia, look at this rose fabric. It’s just like the one your dress was made of when you were a little girl,” King Lysder said, turning to them.

Princess Adelia and Arthur jumped apart.

“Coming, Father,” the princess said, throwing one last look at Arthur before going to her father.

Arthur watched her go.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Merlin asked, and it may have come out a little angrier than he had meant it to.

“What do you mean, Merlin?” Arthur asked.

“You know what,” Merlin answered. “You’re – you’re – you’re _flirting_ ,” Merlin said.

“Yes, I am capable, you know,” Arthur replied.

“With Princess Adelia. You’re flirting with Princess Adelia,” Merlin said.

“I was aware, thank you.”

“ _Why_?”

“She’s a princess, and I am a king. It’s rather expected,” Arthur said.

“But you don’t even like her!”

“Don’t I? Says who?” Arthur asked, glancing at Merlin in amusement. Merlin wanted to hit him.

“You did! Not three days ago!”

“Huh. I don’t recall.”

“But –“

“That looks beautiful on you,” Arthur called as Princess Adelia turned to show him the rose fabric against her skin as her father went in search of something else.

“I assure you, it looks even better off me,” she said with a saucy smile.

“Well, I– ”

“This would look wonderful on you,” King Lysder said, returning with a necklace. It was a thin golden chain with a rose colored pendant hanging off it in a teardrop shape, with gold wrapped around it like vines.

“Oh, I love it,” Princess Adelia gushed. Her father smiled and put it on her. She turned to the mirror close by and beamed. “I’ll take it.”

When her father took out his money, Arthur stepped forward. “No, please,” he said. “Let me.”

“That is very kind of you,” King Lysder said.

“Thank you very much,” the princess smiled, eyes catching Arthur’s in look that was a little too heated with her father so near by.

Part of Merlin wished he would see so he’d put an end to it, but he knew it would do too much harm for the temporary satisfaction it would bring. Another part of Merlin told him to use his magic to burn her hair off, but that wasn’t worth the consequences either.

Sighing, Merlin watched as Arthur bought her the necklace and they moved on down the street.

The princess had seven new dresses, four necklaces, and a bracelet by the time they made it to the center of the market. Her father was all too happy to keep doting on his daughter. Arthur seemed to be winding down from the initial fun of shopping, and was starting to look bored. He and Princess Adelia kept their flirtation going, which irked Merlin.

Unfortunately for Arthur, however, he kept getting into embarrassing situations, making him look rather clumsy himself. There was the instance where he had leaned against a cart as he whispered a rather suggestive comment to Princess Adelia, and the cart had suddenly rolled away, causing Arthur to almost fall on the ground. There was the time where he’d gotten his shirt caught on the bracelet rack, and had caused the entire thing to topple over. There was the time when he managed to step in the only puddle in all of Camelot in the summer heat, drenching his boots and splashing mud up his trousers. There was the time he got hit in the face with the tavern sign when he’d leaned against the tavern wall and the sign had been knocked down. There was even the time when a jacket he tried on turned out to be far too small, and he ended up fighting to get it off, causing him to stumble and bump into a cart of fruit. The produce had all tumbled to the ground, and then Arthur had slipped on a tomato and fallen on his arse.

If all of these things followed a discreet golden flash of Merlin’s eyes, well, that was neither here nor there.

“Care for some lunch?” Arthur asked, recovering from his most recent flare of bad luck. “I can personally vouch for the food here. It’s one of my favorite places in all of Camelot,” he told them as he gestured to a building covered in vines with several tables outside.

“Oh, how charming!” Princess Adelia said, clasping her hands together.

“I was just going to suggest we stop for something.” King Lysder smiled as he started walking towards one of the outside tables.

“Merlin, go alert the servers,” Arthur instructed.

“Yes, sire,” Merlin said before heading inside.

There were only four or five tables inside, but each was filled. The people were chatting and laughing as they ate and drank. Merlin smiled at the atmosphere as he walked over to one of the women he knew worked there.

“Arthur is here with guests,” he told the brunette in the apron. “They’ve seated themselves outside – the first table by the flowerbed.”

“Oh!” The woman jumped, eyes wide. “We never thought they’d… Oh, this is so exciting! What an honor! We’ll – oh no!” She turned panicked eyes to Merlin. “We’ve run out of rabbit!” she said.

Merlin laughed, and grinned at her. “Don’t worry. They had it last night.”

“I’ll have to make sure we’ve got his favorite dessert, at least,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll send someone right out. Thank you, dear.” She smiled and rushed off to the kitchens.

Merlin was turning to walk back out when he spotted Gwaine leaning up against the wall by the serving hatch that led into the kitchen. He had his flirting face on, and Merlin supposed whoever it was must have been playing hard to get, as Gwaine had his extreme flirtation smile in place and was doing some serious hair flipping.

He rolled his eyes, and decided to ruin his fun. As a friend would.

“Hey, Gwaine.” He smiled as he interrupted a tale of bravery (and law breaking) from before Gwaine was a knight.

“Merlin!” Gwaine beamed. “This is Anna.” He smiled.

Anna was a girl with dark brown hair scraped into a bun and sparkling blue eyes. She had a heart- shaped face, a small nose, and several freckles across her cheeks. She smiled prettily at him as she kneaded pastry, and even Merlin had to admit she was rather beautiful.

Gwaine leaned into him and lowered his voice. “She’s the girl I saw in the stream,” he whispered excitedly. Merlin raised his eyebrows in response. “I told you she was good looking.” Gwaine grinned.

“You did,” Merlin nodded. He watched as the girl placed the pastry into a metal molding, and picked up a knife. “What are you making?” he asked her.

“King Arthur’s favorite,” she replied in a light voice. She grabbed a bright red apple and started slicing. “Apple pie.”

Merlin froze, and beside him he could see Gwaine’s grin disappear. Merlin looked at him, and they both didn’t know what to do.

Anna kept cutting. She placed the sliced apples in a bowl, and pulled another from the side of the table to slice up. Merlin watched as she cut into the apple, hearing the crisp chop and wondering if the blade would make the same sound when it broke Arthur’s skull.

“I – ”Merlin had to clear his throat to get rid of the hoarseness that had popped into existence. Beside him, Gwaine just stared at the apples. “I think there’s been a mistake,” Merlin said as calmly as possible. “Arthur’s favorite dessert is not apple pie.”

“No?” Anna looked confused. She stopped cutting and frowned down at the apple. “I was just told it was.”

“No,” Merlin said, shaking his head as he glanced to Gwaine for help.

“Well, what should I make him?” she asked, and looked to Gwaine. “You’re his favorite knight. Surely you know what he likes?”

Merlin filed that piece of information away to tease Gwaine about later, but for now he waited to hear what Gwaine came up with.

“Actually, Merlin would know that. He’s Arthur’s manservant, so he’s much more… knowledgeable about the king’s preferences,” Gwaine said smoothly.

Merlin narrowed his eyes at him, but turned to face an expectant Anna.

“He doesn’t like pie?”

“No, he does,” Merlin said quickly.

“Well, what kind?”

Merlin paused. “What kind?” he echoed. He glanced around for some kind of help. “Uh… what kind of fruit do you have?”

“We’ve only got pears and apples in today,” she said.

“Perfect!” Merlin said a little too loudly. Anna jumped and several people glanced over to them. Merlin ignored them. “That’s Arthur’s favorite!”

“Really?”

“Yep. Arthur loves pears. Absolutely loves them. Can’t get enough of them, actually. Right, Gwaine?” Merlin said, turning to his friend.

“Oh, yeah. Loves them. Has them brought on every hunting trip, even,” he told her.

“He even has a huge bowl of them brought to his room every morning!” Merlin added.

“Oh, I had no idea,” Anna said.

“Yes. So… pears. Pear…pie. Pear pie. That’s Arthur’s favorite.”

“With the skin?” she asked, unsure.

Merlin glanced to Gwaine.

“Yeah,” Gwaine nodded. “Of course! More, uh, sustenance,” he said seriously.

“All right.” Anna smiled. “I can do that.” She turned to Merlin, with a grin. “Thanks.”

Merlin smiled and ran off, giving a last smile to Gwaine who was looking relieved.

Back outside, Arthur, Kind Lysder, and Princess Adelia were already eating their lunch. Merlin stood off to the side as they ate. Arthur was in a deep discussion about trade with King Lysder, so thankfully there was no flirting of any kind between him and Princess Adelia. Much to her apparent dissatisfaction.

“Ah, dessert.” Arthur smiled. “This is why I love this place so much. Not even the castle bakers make my favorite as well as they do,” he said as a woman brought out a large steaming pie. “My favorite ap– ” The pie was placed in the center of the table, the scent of the hot pastry and pear hitting their noses.

“Pear pie,” Arthur said with a frown.

“Yes, we apologize for the delay. We only just learnt of your preference for it, my lord. If we had known, we’d have made it for you before,” the woman said, eyes on the ground.

Arthur only looked more confused.

“My preference for… pear pie?”

The woman nodded.

“Over apple?”

The woman nodded again.

Arthur caught Merlin looking pointedly away, and narrowed his eyes. He turned to the woman and smiled charmingly.

“And let me guess. Was it Merlin that told you about my preference for… pear pie?”

The woman nodded.

Arthur looked at Merlin. Merlin smiled back.

“Well, I shall have to remember to thank him at some point, won’t I,” he said, and Merlin just knew that look meant he was getting something thrown at him later.

“My lord.” The woman excused herself with a curtsey.

“I’ve never had pear pie with the skin still on,” Princess Adelia said, eyeing a piece of pear with the green skin peering out from within the pie.

“No, I bet most people haven’t,” Arthur muttered. Merlin forced himself not to laugh.

Princess Adelia had a slice of pear pie slid onto her plate, as Arthur turned to glare at Merlin. King Lysder was looking questioningly at the pie as his daughter took her first bite. All three of them watched as she slowly chewed up the tiny bite, a look of curiosity on her face. She frowned for a moment, and Merlin sucked in a breath. After she swallowed they all waited for the verdict, and Merlin would have said none of them were breathing as they waited for her to speak.

The princess didn’t say a word, but took up another, larger, forkful and popped it in her mouth. Her eyes darted up as if she had just realized that they were all watching her, and a small smile came to her lips. King Lysder nodded subtly and started to eat his own.

Arthur poked at his piece of pie, looking like he was debating picking out the pear. Merlin wasn’t sure why they were all making such a fuss over the skins still being left on, but he supposed it was one of those royal things he’d never understand.

He watched as Arthur took his first mouthful, his eyebrow arched up in surprise before he continued chewing and went about his dessert as usual. Merlin breathed in the delicious scent of the pie as they ate, feeling his stomach rumble a bit.

The door to the kitchen bashed open, covering up the sound, as Gwaine and Anna walked out. Her hair was down, and her apron was off. She still had a streak of flour on her cheek, but Gwaine noticed and brushed it off for her. The girl blushed and looked away. Gwaine grinned.

“Gwaine.” Arthur smiled, leaning back in his chair and leaving his half-eaten slice of pie on his plate. Merlin eyed it hungrily. “And who is this young lady?” Arthur asked in surprise, giving Anna a quick once over. Merlin saw Arthur’s eyes dart to him, but he ignored it.

“Anna, my lord,” the girl said shyly, curtseying.

“Anna?” Arthur repeated, looking obviously back and forth between Gwaine and Merlin.

Merlin tore his eyes away from the pie long enough to be confused at the expression on Arthur’s face. On the outside, Arthur looked, at most, a little caught off guard, but still his regular charming self. But Merlin could tell there was a hint of outrage under the calm exterior by the stormy look in his eyes, and he guessed Gwaine saw it as well. Merlin raised an eyebrow in question to Gwaine.

“When did you two meet?” Arthur asked. His voice was a touch colder than it ought to have been, but nobody said a thing. Whether it was out of politeness or not having caught it, Merlin couldn’t be sure.

“This morning, my lord,” Anna replied. “I met him at the market while buying some apples.” she smiled, a light blush coming to her cheeks.

“This morning,” Arthur repeated, and Merlin was surprised by the angry look he shot Gwaine. “Well, Anna, is Sir Gwaine treating you properly? If he isn’t be sure to tell me. He’s got training tonight, and I’d be more than happy to whip him into shape.” Arthur smiled at her, but his voice still had an edge to it.

“Oh, I’d love to watch you practice, Arthur,” Princess Adelia piped in.

Arthur laughed uncomfortably in response.

“I assure you, Your Highness, Gwaine has been the perfect gentleman.” she smiled. Merlin grinned as he watched Gwaine _blush_.

“I highly doubt that,” Arthur said as he sent an odd look to Gwaine. “Did I hear you correctly, that you’ve got apples in? I would love to have one if you’ve got any left. There was an,” Arthur’s eyes darted to Merlin, “incident earlier this morning and I was unable to have any back at the castle.”

“Oh, of course!” Anna nodded. She pulled an apple from her pocket. “We actually have too many, so I was going to take a few home. Please,” she said as she handed it over.

“Arthur, your pie,” Merlin tried. Arthur ignored him and took the apple.

“I’ll save this for later,” he said and slipped it into his pocket. Merlin watched the apple disappear into the fabric of his trousers in a slight panic.

“No!” Gwaine yelled a bit too loudly, and Merlin looked up to see Anna about to take a bite of an apple herself. “You don’t want that, do you?” Gwaine said to her, and pulled it from her hand.

“Not you, too?” Arthur asked. “What is it with people and apples today?” he grumbled.

“I heard they whole harvest tastes sour,” Merlin said quickly.

“Something wrong with the crops or the land?” King Lysder asked, his eyes narrowed in thought.

Arthur glared at Merlin before he turned to placate the king. “No, Merlin must have heard wrong, because I had an apple just yesterday and it was delicious.”

“I was rather looking forward to one myself,” Anna sighed, before sending Gwaine a curious glance.

“Why don’t you try the pie?” Gwaine said.

“Yes, the pie,” Merlin agreed. He picked up Arthur’s plate quickly and thrust it under her nose. “If it’s fit for the king, it is certainly fit for anyone in Camelot,” he told her.

“Merlin!” Arthur yelled.

“Sharing is a valuable lesson that everyone must learn,” Merlin said.

“I must admit it odd, but I can see why your people adore you so if you are willing to give them the very food off your plate. Do you always share with your people like this?” King Lysder asked Arthur.

Arthur paused, looking surprised, as were Merlin and Gwaine, at the genuine respect in King Lysder’s eyes as he waited for Arthur to reply. Arthur pulled himself together quickly.

“Yes, I– ” he turned to Anna. “Please, enjoy.”

Anna smiled and took a bite of the pie as Merlin looked over to see the princess watching the exchange between Anna and Arthur closely. He narrowed his eyes, certain he saw the twitch of a vein in her forehead as Arthur turned his charming smile back to Anna as she chewed.

“Will you be coming to the ball Friday evening?” Arthur asked as Anna ate.

“I haven’t asked her yet,” Gwaine butted in.

“No?” Arthur asked, looking again between Merlin and him. “My mistake. Do you already have a date?” he asked, his shoulders tensed. Merlin frowned at him, but then the scent of the pie hit him again and he couldn’t help the little sigh that escaped as he looked longingly at it.

“I was going to ask her later on,” Gwaine said. He looked at Anna. “Tonight, at dinner.”

“Are we going to dinner?” she asked with a sweet smile, and put the unfinished pie back on the table.

Gwaine laughed nervously. “Well, I– ”

The hard smack on the table jolted them all to attention. Merlin turned to see Princess Adelia’s hand around her neck as she looked like she was trying to cough.

“Adelia?!” King Lysder called in a panic at his daughter’s state.

“She’s choking!” Anna gasped.

“It must be the bloody pear skin,” Arthur muttered as he jumped up from his seat and went over to her.

Princess Adelia was thrashing about as she tried to breathe. She was starting to hyperventilate in her panic, but as no air could go in, it was more like a convulsion. Her father was trying to pat her back as he called her name. She was looking frantically at the table as she tried to force herself to either swallow the skin or cough it back up.

“Merlin!” Arthur called as he rushed over to her.

Just as he moved a dagger rushed through the air, the speed of it cutting the air catching Gwaine, Anna, Merlin, and Arthur’s attention. The dagger crashed into the stone wall where Arthur had been sitting just a few seconds ago.

Merlin stared, wide- eyed, as he realized it would have gone right into Arthur’s forehead if he hadn’t just moved. Just like the Land of Untold Stories had foretold. Merlin snapped his gaze to Gwaine to see if he realized, and by the pale look on his face, he guessed he did.

Gwaine’s eyes were scanning the market square before them to see where it had come from. His sword was already drawn, and Arthur’s was as well. King Lysder was standing over his daughter, who was now coughing hard. Merlin and Anna kept looking between the two scenes.

“Who did that?!” Arthur yelled.

“Never mind that, someone help my daughter!” King Lysder said in a panic.

Merlin rushed over to the princess as she heaved and coughed up a pear skin onto the table. He looked down at the spit- covered green skin with disgust. Princess Adelia was crying, and her father was trying to calm her.

“Disgusting!” she cried. “Dirty! I can’t take it!”

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Merlin heard Gwaine yell, and turned to see him storming up to Jorad who had thrown the knife.

Jorad was standing, wide- eyed and looking with horror at their table. He was standing amongst a group of girls, all of them crowded around him looking shocked.

“I – I – I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! I was just showing them some tricks I learnt and the dagger went flying out my hand on one of the spins,” he explained, looking at Gwaine and then Arthur, who was walking over as well.

“Showing off more like,” Gwaine said.

“You are lucky that didn’t kill me,” Arthur said as he came to a stop in front of the knight.

“I am so sorry, sire,” he said.

“You’ll report to the training field tomorrow morning as soon as the sun is up,” Arthur stated.

“Yes, sire,” the knight sighed.

 

 

 

 

 

A ball was held on Friday night in honor of King Lysder and Princess Adelia. The castle was a buzz with servants running around to prepare everything. The kitchens had a large banquet laid out, no expense having been spared. The ballroom was decorated in all sorts of gold and silver, with plenty of Pendragon red flags hanging off the walls at every entrance.

Arthur was wearing his official dress robes, in Pendragon red, of course. His chainmail glistened in the candle light thanks to Merlin’s hard work. Arthur stepped into the ballroom, scanning the crowd.

“You’re not to leave me tonight, Merlin,” he ordered.

Merlin, who stood behind him, frowned. “Why would I leave you?”

“Why indeed,” Arthur said lightly before walking forward and causing a hush to fall as he walked into the room.

His people bowed, nodded, and curtseyed at him in respect and Arthur sent back polite smiles in response. He made his way across the dance floor, smiling at the couples already moving to the lively music.

Merlin saw Gwaine twirl Anna in his arms, and waved at them.

“Arthur,” King Lysder greeted.

“King Lysder, and Princess Adelia.” Arthur smiled. “Enjoying the ball so far?”

“Adelia more than I, I am sure. She loves to dance,” King Lysder told him.

“Well then, the king should dance with the princess, should he not?” came a man’s voice.

Arthur and Merlin turned to see one of Arthur’s advisers standing behind them. He was a tall man with a thin face and a pointed chin. His deceptively friendly face was smiling at the visiting royals, as Arthur stepped back to greet him.

“Lord Ashtoran,” Arthur said, turning to King Lysder. “You remember each other from the negotiations last week, correct?”

“I believe more so at the feast later that night. You’ve got an impressive tolerance for that mulled wine,” King Lysder joked.

“Only to keep up with my lord when he indulges, I assure you,” Ashtoran replied smoothly, making both Arthur and King Lysder laugh.

“I believe a dance was promised me?” the princess interrupted them, and Merlin realized it was going to be one of _those_ nights. Where she’d be throwing herself at Arthur unabashed, as she had been doing since the market.

It did not make it any less nauseating to witness when Arthur did nothing to dissuade her. He may not have been as openly partaking as he was in the market, but he was still all charming smiles and breathtaking grins, polite laughter and attentive listening.

It irritated Merlin.

“I do not think that would be proper,” King Lysder said, his eyes narrowing at Arthur.

Merlin was thankful for his protective streak when it came to his daughter. Arthur shook his head.

“I’m afraid your father is correct,” Arthur said to Princess Adelia. “It is enough to know you would say yes, though.” He smiled at her.

“Now, now,” Ashtoran said. “We cannot allow such a fine young lady to be left by the side, and forced to watch others danced around the ballroom.”

“Adelia is not to be dancing around anywhere, with anyone,” King Lysder said sternly. “She is much too young for that.”

“Father,” Princess Adelia sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Please?”

Merlin was internally begging for the foreign king to refuse. He was highly aware that Arthur was not pushing the issue, and trying to get out of dancing with the princess, which said more than enough about where his thoughts were going.

To Merlin’s dismay, King Lysder sighed with a smile at his daughter as he cupped her face. “I can never say no to you, my dear,” he told her.

Princess Adelia beamed at him and took Arthur by the hand. “Come,” she said.

Arthur let her pull him to the middle of the room. He glanced around at the people now watching as their king was readying to dance. A hush fell upon the room as Arthur came to a stop and turned to the princess. She smiled widely at him and whispered something. Arthur’s hand went to her back while his other clasped her hand. She looked up at him through her thin lashes, causing a nervous laugh to bubble from Arthur that Merlin could hear all the way across the room.

Merlin did not remember ever seeing Arthur dance before, and he folded his arms as he tilted his head in curiosity to watch. He scrutinized the way Arthur didn’t seem to know where to put his hands, even though Merlin was sure Arthur had been forced to have the proper lessons as a child. He noted the way Arthur kept glancing away at the others around them, and smiling. He noticed Princess Adelia’s hand pulling from his grasp and going to his chin to move his face back to face hers. He noticed the crowd around them laughing at the gesture, and the light blush that tinted Arthur’s cheeks.

When the new song began, and Arthur started to move, Merlin watched the others in the room forgoing this round of dancing to watch the king. It was odd to see Arthur stumble on his feet when Merlin had seen him so quick with a sword. Merlin almost laughed aloud as he thought of replacing Princess Adelia with Excalibur.

At least the sword wouldn’t be as irritating.

“Never thought I’d see Arthur dance at one of these,” Gwaine said, appearing beside Merlin.

“Ashtoran’s idea,” Merlin told him. “Not that Arthur wouldn’t have suggested it eventually.”

“You think so?”

Merlin snorted and crossed his arms tighter. “Of course.”

“I didn’t think Arthur liked to dance,” Gwaine said.

“Where is Anna?” Merlin asked, ignoring the statement.

“She’s gone to freshen up,” he replied.

“You two look happy together.” Merlin smiled.

“That cave is brilliant.” Gwaine smiled. “The exact image I saw came true.”

“Thankfully for Arthur the apple one did not.”

“What did you do with the one he slipped in his pocket?”

Merlin smirked. “I tripped and accidentally threw his trousers out the window.”

Gwaine’s laugh rang loudly, pulling more than a few people’s attention their way. Merlin laughed beside him, and Gwaine put his hand on Merlin’s shoulder as he recovered.

“I’d have paid to see Arthur’s face at that!”

“He threw the fruit bowl at me,” Merlin told him. “After calling me an idiot, of course.”

“Of course.”

“What’s so funny?” Arthur’s voice asked, startling Merlin.

“Arthur?” Merlin asked in confusion, eyes darting to the middle of the dance floor, which was now covered with other couples dancing across it.

“Yes?”

“I thought you were otherwise engaged,” Gwaine said, cocking an eyebrow at Arthur. “Where is the lovely Princess Adelia?”

“With her father, I think,” Arthur answered. “Why?”

Gwaine shrugged. He looked between Arthur and Merlin for a second before sighing dejectedly with a small shake of his head. “If you’ll excuse me, I think Anna has returned.”

As Gwaine walked off, Merlin turned to Arthur.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dance,” he said.

“Of course you have, Merlin,” Arthur drawled.

“No, really. I think this is the first time I’ve seen you dance. I thought you didn’t like it.”

“I’ve never said that,” Arthur replied.

They were quiet for a few moments.

“I think your date is missing you,” Merlin said as he spotted Princess Adelia sitting bored by her father and scanning the crowd for someone. Probably Arthur.

“She isn’t my date,” Arthur replied quickly. Merlin quirked an eyebrow. “I just mean… Why would you think she’s my date?”

Merlin shrugged.

“I didn’t want to dance with her.” Arthur frowned, answering a question Merlin never asked.

Merlin snorted in disbelief. “Right, I must have missed you disagreeing with Lord Ashtoran, and then again I must have not heard you telling Princess Adelia that you didn’t want to dance with her either. And of course, you were clearly blocked from my view when you were to be forced to dance with her with such a pained expression.”

Arthur stared at Merlin, eyebrows raised and mouth open.

“What did you expect me to do? Refuse to dance?”

“You just said you didn’t want to dance with her,” Merlin said, giving Arthur a skeptical glance. “Yet you danced with her!”

“Of course I danced with her, you idiot, I couldn’t very well say no!”

“Yes, you could have!”

“No, I couldn’t!”

Merlin and Arthur both glared at each other.

“I could not,” Arthur restated. “It would have been insulting.” At Merlin’s snort of disbelief, he added a slow, “I was being _polite_.”

“Just admit you like her!” Merlin sighed, throwing his hands up in annoyance. Arthur stared back at him as if he’d just announced he was running off with a goat and taking all the apples in Camelot with him. “It’s not that shocking, Arthur! You’re the king of Camelot, but you’re still a man. You’ve got feelings, as much as you don’t want to admit it. You’ve got wants, and needs, and she’s a pretty girl. It’s perfectly normal– ”

“You think she’s pretty?” Arthur interrupted, an odd look on his face.

“I’m just saying if you like her, then what’s stopping you from going after her?”

“Her father,” Arthur replied automatically without missing a beat. Merlin’s jaw tensed. “No, I mean, he’d never allow his daughter to be with anyone. You saw how protective he is of her.”

“I’m sure he just wants his daughter to be happy. And as she’s more than interested in you, I don’t think there’d be a real problem.”

“Of course there’d be a– ” Arthur narrowed his eyes at Merlin.

“What?”

A smirk popped into place on Arthur’s lips. Merlin frowned. Stupid lips.

“What?” he asked again.

Arthur was looking far too smug for his own good. If he was just now realizing his charm and ability to sway King Lysder into allowing him to marry his daughter, then Merlin had no wish to witness it. Either the smugness or the marriage.

“You’re jealous,” Arthur stated in triumph.

Merlin gaped.

“I am not!” he yelled, voice jumping an octave or four. He cleared his throat as Arthur grinned wider than Merlin had ever seen. Stupid Arthur’s grin. Merlin gathered himself. “I am _not_ jealous. Don’t be stupid. Why would I be jealous? Jealous of what?”

“Princess Adelia,” Arthur smirked.  “You’re jealous of me dancing with her,” Arthur explained. Merlin cocked an eyebrow. Arthur grinned. “You’re jealous of me spending time with her. You’re jealous of me talking with her. You’re jealous of me being nice to her, even,” Arthur continued, moving forward and causing Merlin to take a few steps back. “You’re practically green with envy.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Arthur!” Merlin all but yelled.

“You’re jealous, Merlin,” Arthur stated again, his grin looking far too wide and making him look slightly deranged with happiness.

“Why would I be jealous?!” Merlin yelled in defense, standing his ground and not letting Arthur back him up another step.

Arthur leaned in, his face coming mere inches from Merlin’s. Merlin’s breath caught as he felt Arthur’s breath on his face. His heart was racing, and his mind was spinning. He was confused and scared and nervous and excited and he didn’t know how to feel it all at once.

“Because you like me,” Arthur whispered, lips too close.

“You’re a prat,” Merlin whispered faintly, weakly.

Arthur smirked. “And you like me anyway.”

Merlin’s heart stuttered to a stop as everything seemed to slow to almost a halt. He watched as Arthur’s lips came closer, as Arthur’s eyes slid shut. His eyes darted past Arthur and to those around them, too caught up in the festivities to notice them in the corner. He saw King Lysder clapping along with the music as he laughed at something Ashtoran said. He saw Princess Adelia, looking right at him.

Her eyes were slits, but burnt with a deep rage. Her face was stone cold and her hand was gripping her glass hard. She was glaring at Merlin as if she wanted nothing more than his immediate death. She looked ready to do it herself. Ready to reach for the sharp knife by the large boar on the table and throw it at Merlin’s head.

Merlin tore his eyes away from her and back to Arthur.

Arthur with his bright blue eyes, and easy smile. Arthur with his nobility, his honor, his courage, and his justness. Arthur and his teasing and caring. Arthur and the myriad of feelings he evoked from Merlin that just confused him. Or rather had confused him. Because now things were clear. They were so startlingly clear that Merlin couldn’t _breathe_.

Because Merlin never expected to love Arthur.

Before Arthur came any closer, Merlin backed away, his eyes wide in fear. Arthur’s eyes popped open, and they were a shade darker than they usually were. His mouth was forming a soft smile, achingly familiar before it disappeared and a crease formed between his brows.

Merlin ran before Arthur could say a thing.

He ran out of the ballroom, and rushed down the hall. He ran straight to the front entrance, not looking back. Not hesitating as fear pulsed through his veins. He ran, ignoring the servants and nobles jumping out of his way and yelling at him for his recklessness. He ran, heart pounding, as fast as he could.

When Merlin felt a hand grab his arm he gasped and tried to rip his arm away, but the grip was too strong. He was pulled into an alcove, and shoved against a wall. Merlin was crying too hard to see the face, but he just couldn’t face anything at the moment.

“Please, Arthur,” he begged. “Please,” he said shaking his head.

“Merlin, what the happened?!” Gwaine’s voice came urgently. He reached up and wiped Merlin’s tears away, and Merlin stopped struggling.

Merlin’s vision cleared a little and he looked into the worried face of his friend. He slumped against the wall in relief. “Gwaine,” he sighed, a rush of calm coming over him.

“Merlin, where are you going? Why are you running? What happened?” Gwaine asked, looking him over for any injuries. “Where’s Arthur?” he asked, eyes snapping up, and he leaned out of the alcove to check if Arthur was anywhere in the hall.

Merlin dragged him back in case Arthur was there. “No, no! No Arthur! Gwaine, no! No Arthur!”

“O-kay…” Gwaine said slowly, eyeing Merlin. When it looked like Merlin wasn’t going to fall apart, he stepped back and waited for an explanation.

“I– ” Merlin’s eyes teared up.

“Not here?” Gwaine guessed.

Merlin nodded.

“I know the perfect spot.” Gwaine smiled.

“What about Anna?” Merlin asked, noticing she wasn’t there.

“She went home. She had a long day at work, and needed the rest,” Gwaine told him. “Don’t worry about her. Come on.”

Merlin let Gwaine lead him from the alcove and pull him towards the door. They walked down the steps in front of the castle and started down the street. Merlin guessed where they were going. The only place they were both sure they’d be alone.

The Land of Untold Stories.

As they turned down the street and out of sight of the castle, neither of them saw Arthur on the balcony outside the castle, watching. Neither of them saw the hurt expression in his eyes, or the way they narrowed immediately after. They didn’t see his hands clench into fists, and they didn’t see him, a second after they disappeared, hit the nearest wall as hard as he could.

 

 

 

 

 

Merlin and Gwaine didn’t talk the whole way there. Merlin barely whispered the spell, and when he did it was not his fear of Arthur that he thought of to get them there, but his love. It terrified him and it caused hot tears to fall once again.

They didn’t talk as they walked down to the river. They didn’t talk as Merlin’s magic rowed them across, or when they got their tickets. They didn’t even talk when they sat down in the glass orb. Gwaine wondered if it would take until they reached the cave for Merlin to speak. Perhaps longer then, too.

To his surprise, and Merlin’s, Merlin spoke as the door popped open for them at the top of the cliff.

“I realized I love him,” was all Merlin said.

Gwaine froze in his seat. He looked at Merlin, who was staring so heartbrokenly at his hands. “What made you finally realize that?”

“Arthur, he said I was jealous, and that I liked him. I told he was a prat, but then he said I liked him anyway and I just… I just realized I didn’t like him. I loved him,” Merlin said. Gwaine didn’t reply. Merlin looked up with a frown. “What do you mean _finally_?”

Gwaine did a sort of laugh-sigh as he sat back and looked at Merlin with pity. Merlin frowned deeper. “You two are the densest idiots I’ve ever met,” he told Merlin. “It’s clear as day, mate,” he said.

Merlin’s eyes went wide. “It’s really that obvious?”

Gwaine laughed properly then. “Plain as the nose on your face.”

Merlin’s eyes watered again.

“Mind telling me what’s all this about then? If you’ve finally realized you love him, why are you _here_ with _me_ and not back at the ball dancing with Arthur? Or better yet in his room, doing some of your own moves in between the sheets.” Gwaine grinned naughtily.

“Arthur doesn’t like to dance,” Merlin said automatically. Gwaine wiggled his eyebrows.

“So the latter then.”

“No, Gwaine. Arthur– ” Merlin sighed in frustration and dropped his head into his hands as he bent forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “Arthur knows.”

“I’d hope so,” Gwaine replied. Merlin looked at him brokenly. Gwaine narrowed his eyes at him. “You don’t think Arthur feels the same way, do you?”

“It’s _Arthur_!” Merlin said as if that explained it all. “He’s… he’s perfect, and likes women, and likes Princess Adelia, and– ” Gwaine’s sharp laugh cut Merlin off. Merlin watched in irritated confusion as Gwaine laughed hard. “What?”

“Merlin, Arthur does _not_ like Princess Adelia!”

“Yes, he does! You haven’t seen them together!” Merlin said, sitting back in a huff. “The past three days they’ve done nothing but be together. Riding together, eating together, laughing together, talking together, taking walks together. He’s practically been courting her!”

“He’s only doing what is expected of him. What he’d do for any visiting princess. He’s not courting her, much as his advisers wish him to,” Gwaine replied, muttering the last part.

“What?” Merlin said with a frown at the muttered statement.

“That Ashtoran is the head of it all,” Gwaine nodded. “He’s convinced that if Arthur doesn’t find a spouse soon it’ll lead to some horrific thing. He’s sure of it, and he’s got his sights set on Princess Adelia because of he’s heard good things about their land. I think he’s hoping for a nice chunk of it for himself if he manages to get them two together.”

“But Arthur– ”

“Has no interest in Princess Adelia.”

Merlin was unconvinced.

“I can assure you that Arthur has absolutely no interest in any of the princesses, or ladies, or anyone else,” Gwaine said.

“Anyone… else?”

“You really are an idiot,” Gwaine said shaking his head in amazement. “I thought Arthur was just teasing you, but no. You’re an actual idiot.”

Merlin scowled at him.

“I’m not spelling it out for you,” Gwaine said. “When you hear it for the first time, it has to be from Arthur himself,” he declared. “Might be waiting a while for it, but you’ll hear it.”

“Gwaine, just tell me,” Merlin begged.

Gwaine presses his lips into a thin line in thoughts. “I’ll do you one better, and show you instead.” With that he stood up and walked to the door. “Come on,” he said as he stepped out. Merlin reluctantly got up and followed.

When they entered the familiar cave, Merlin glanced skeptically at Gwaine. Gwaine held his hand up in a gesture for Merlin to wait, and trust him. Merlin followed him further into the cave.

As before, the streams dropped in number as someone stepped inside. When Merlin stepped in they narrowed the choice further. Merlin was surprised to see that there were even fewer than last time. Only ten or so. Merlin eyed them, not seeing anything of importance.

One of them showed Gwaine and Merlin laughing over a tankard of mead. Another showed them walking through Camelot with Gwen, Lancelot, and Anna. Another showed Merlin juggling, for some reason.

Merlin frowned.

“That one!” Gwaine announced, pointing to a stream that looped several times and ran parallel to the wall in a slow and steady flow.

Merlin walked over to it. He watched the image as it flashed brokenly at him. Him and Arthur laughing. That’s all he saw. He glanced back at Gwaine.

 “Look closer,” Gwaine said.

Merlin saw Arthur with his arm around him.

“Gwaine, this doesn’t mean anything. Arthur does that all the time.”

Gwaine gave him a severe look. Merlin cocked an eyebrow at him. Walking over to Merlin and the stream, Gwaine produced a dark red phial that he’d grabbed from the shelf under the basin. He filled it quickly before grabbing hold of Merlin and dragging him over.

He dumped the liquid into the basin.

“Magic, if you’d be so kind,” he said.

Merlin hesitated, remembering the pain.

“I know it hurts, Merlin, but you have to see this.”

Merlin swallowed at the memory of the last time.

“For Camelot,” Gwaine said. “For Arthur.”

Merlin touched the basin and closed his eyes as he pushed some of his magic out. The claws slashed into his magic, pulling hungrily. Merlin’s scream filled the cave as the _taking_ happened. Shaking and gasping as whatever it was released him, Merlin fell into Gwaine’s ready arms. His friend held him up as Merlin got his breath back.

“Thanks,” Merlin mumbled.

Gwaine looked conflicted. Merlin could see him battling with the guilt, and as Gwaine’s eyes darted to the basin, Merlin saw the concern in them. He opened his mouth to assure Gwaine that he felt fine. That the pain only came during the… taking. Gwaine however, was staring at the basin with a large floppy smile on his face, and a smug satisfaction in his eyes.

Merlin looked over and saw the image in the water, eyes widening as his mouth went slack in shock.

Arthur’s hand came up to Merlin’s face, gently holding his cheek. He tilted his head slightly and leaned forward as Merlin’s eyes closed. When their lips met, Arthur smiled into the kiss. Merlin smiled back a second later, and they had to break their kiss as they were both beaming at each other. Arthur’s thumb reached out to caress Merlin’s lip and Merlin beamed brighter. Their lips met again, and then the image started over.

“Merlin?” Gwaine asked, but his voice sounded far away as Merlin watched the scene over and over again.

Merlin clutched the side of the basin and memorized every detail in the scene. He watched how Arthur’s lip quirked up instantly after their lips met the first time, and he tried to pull it back down so he could keep kissing Merlin. He watched as Arthur lost the battle to his happiness and ended up smiling anyway. He watched himself realize that Arthur was smiling against his lips by just the sensation alone, Merlin’s smile spreading fast in response. He watched as they smiled against each other, and the little touch of their foreheads before Arthur’s thumb came into view. He watched as Arthur moved his thumb as if he hadn’t even thought about it, and then was surprised and hesitant right before it touched Merlin’s bottom lip. He saw Arthur’s blue eyes watch, captivated, as his thumb touched Merlin’s mouth. He watched Arthur’s eyes grow a shade darker as his thumb brushed across it, and Merlin’s smile grew brighter. He watched as Arthur closed the distance between them as they kissed again, their lips locking just as the scene restarted.

“Merlin?” Gwaine was still calling.

Merlin didn’t know how long it had been. He stared into the basin as the scene stopped replaying and the liquid slowly drained away. Merlin blinked and his eyes snapped to the stream where the scene came from. He rushed over, picking up the red phial, needing to see the scene again. A million more times. Endlessly, if possible.

“Merlin!” Gwaine said in a laugh, catching him by the arm and pulling him back.

“Gwaine, I have to see it again!”

“Or we can go back to that party and you can make it happen for real,” his friend grinned.

Merlin froze.

“You can’t doubt him after seeing that!”

“I don’t,” Merlin answered immediately. “I just don’t know if…” Merlin searched for an excuse. He was too scared to go to Arthur. What if that wasn’t their future? What if some decision was made by the time he got back and it diverted them to a different path? What if, for some reason, it was wrong? Merlin’s eyes landed on a stream with a flash of a sword within it. “We have to check that Arthur is all right!”

“Yes, so let’s go back.”

“No, his future. We have to make sure that he isn’t in any immediate danger.”

“Merlin, what are you going to do? Come back here every day to check?”

“Not every day,” Merlin mumbled, making his way to the stream anyway. “Maybe once a week,” he continued to mumble as he filled the phial. Gwaine sighed as he walked back to the basin.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Gwaine said. “You’ve already been through it once today. I think twice is pushing it.”

“I’m fine, Gwaine,” Merlin sighed. “It’s just… uncomfortable when it happens.”

“Uncomfortable? Merlin, you _scream_.”

“Weren’t you the one who said I had to do this for Arthur?!” Merlin asked heatedly.

“Yes! To see what’s between the two of you! Not _this_ , whatever it is!” Gwaine yelled, hand carding through his hair. At Merlin’s scowl he sighed, and added, “Merlin, you have no idea how you effect Arthur. There are some days where I think he’s just going to snap and throw you over his shoulder and hide you up in his rooms.” He laughed.

“He’s practically done it lately,” Merlin muttered as he thought about all the nights Arthur had forced him to sleep in that uncomfortable chair in his rooms, with no explanation as to why Merlin couldn’t sleep in his own room in Gaius and his chambers.

Gwaine stared at Merlin in disbelief. “What?”

“He forced me to sleep– ”

“No, I know that,” Gwaine waved him off. “Do you not know why?”

“Because he’s a prat!” Merlin huffed. “A gorgeous, adorable prat,” he muttered. At Gwaine’s smirk Merlin glared. “But still a prat!” he added.

“He’s scared, Merlin,” Gwaine said.

“Of what? He’s the best knight in Camelot. As he so often points out, he’s been _trained to kill since birth_ ,” Merlin recited.

“Didn’t do him much good when you got hurt, did it?”

“I’m fine now. I was practically healed by the third day back!”

“Arthur didn’t know that. Arthur didn’t know anything other than the fact you almost died in that forest, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.” Merlin huffed and went to pour the liquid into the basin. Gwaine caught his hand. “Merlin, Arthur has no family left. He’s got his knights, and sure we’re like family, but we’re not his actual family. He has Gaius, and Gwen, and yes they are like family. He loves them like a father and sister. But you, Merlin? You’re something Arthur has never had, and something he never thought he’d find. You’re the most important thing to him, and almost losing you scared him more than I have ever seen. More than anyone has ever seen.”

Merlin stared at Gwaine as he spoke, each word feeling heavier than the last. Gwaine sighed in frustration.

“I shouldn’t have been the one to tell you that,” Gwaine said. “Those should have been Arthur’s words to confess.”

“If I’d have waited for Arthur to say that, I’d never have heard it. You know how well he deals with expressing his feelings.” Merlin tried for a joke. Gwaine gave him a faint smile for his efforts.

“The point is, Merlin, that you matter. He hasn’t let you out of his sight since because he’s scared that something will happen to you.”

“What’s he plan on doing if it did? He can barely put a bandage on,” Merlin was unable to help asking.

“I don’t know. I don’t think he’s considered it. I don’t think he’s dared to consider it. Arthur would do anything he had to, but if even if he wasn’t able to do anything, if he wasn’t there when you were hurt like that, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. He just wants to be there if that were to happen. To be with you.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard Arthur spoken about so… romantically,” Merlin said.

Gwaine nodded, a frown on his face. “Don’t tell him I said it,” he asked Merlin. “It would ruin his warrior reputation.” Gwaine grinned.

“Gwaine, I have to do this,” Merlin said, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. “I have to make sure he’ll be all right. Because I _can_ do something about it. I have to do this. As much as for Arthur and Camelot as for myself,” Merlin said quietly.

There was a few seconds of silence, and Merlin thought Gwaine would start to argue.

“Then I’ll be there to catch you when you fall,” Gwaine promised.

Merlin smiled at him and turned to face the basin as he poured the liquid into it. He touched the basin, and took a deep breath. He tried to focus on his feelings for Arthur to give himself the mental strength to face the pain.

“Ready?” Merlin asked Gwaine shakily.

“Ready,” Gwaine confirmed, and Merlin felt him move into position behind him, ready to catch him once he was released.

Merlin closed his eyes and pushed his magic out. The taking was immediate, as if whatever it was had been expecting it. Waiting for it. The claws were just as sharp, and the sensation just as cold and horrid. Merlin screamed again as something took from his magic. The taking felt worse than the last time. Not more pain, but just the sensation of it felt… worse. Merlin struggled to place an emotion, to place any sort of feeling other than skin- crawling, body- shuddering disgust.

“Easy,” Gwaine’s voice murmured softly by his ear. “I’ve got you. Come on, Merlin. That’s it,” he was saying as Merlin’s eyelids fluttered.

Gwaine helped Merlin to his feet, holding him steady as Merlin’s strength came back to him. Merlin nodded and held onto the basin, allowing Gwaine to let go and move to the side. Taking a calming breath, Merlin pushed the memory of the feeling away, and turned his attention to the basin.

The image was clear and nauseating, as were all of them where Arthur was killed.

A woman in a dark hood was speaking with Lord Ashtoran in the night. Ashtoran bowed, a cunning smile on his face. The woman nodded, and walked away, turning down another hall as she pulled her hood back. It was Princess Adelia. The image shifted to Ashtoran with numerous empty cups and tankards of wine and mead. He was surrounded by other nobles, and was speaking animatedly to them with a scandalized expression.  Again the image shifted, and Princess Adelia was looking panicked as she chased after her father. King Lysder on the other hand was furious. He stormed past Ashtoran and out into the hall. Princess Adelia flashed Ashtoran an urgent and terrified glance and Ashtoran stood abruptly, rushing to follow them, completely ruining his well-played part as a drunk. The image shifted once more to show Arthur, seething in anger, spinning around as King Lysder called his name. It was too late for Arthur to draw his sword. Arthur was run through, a look of shock on his hurt and angry face. Arthur fell to the floor, blood pooling.

“That was the _ball_ ,” Merlin breathed in realization.

“We have to go, now!” Gwaine yelled, already running across the cave.

Merlin rushed after him.

 

 

 

 

 

They didn’t stop running until they reached Camelot. Merlin’s side hurt, and he could barely catch his breath as they rushed up the steps. His legs screamed at him to stop, but the scene kept replaying itself in his head, forcing him to run faster.

“Go find Arthur! Keep him away from King Lysder and Princess Adelia!” Gwaine called. “I’ll gather the knights and find Lord Ashtoran,” he said, running through the castle already.

“Gwaine, don’t let King Lysder out of that room,” Merlin yelled to him.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Gwaine said as he turned the corner.

Merlin rushed to the ballroom, but came to a stop when he realized he couldn’t risk tipping off Ashtoran and Princess Adelia that he knew of their plan to get Arthur killed. Merlin spun, trying to think of another way into the ballroom that wouldn’t require using the front entrance and walking all the way across the room to the tables where Arthur and the other nobles were most likely still sitting.

Spotting a door to the long balcony that ran across the outside of the ballroom, Merlin sighed in relief and rushed for it. He pulled it open, and turned to run to the other side when he was stopped at the sight of Arthur standing outside, slumped over the railing with his hands clasped, lost in thought.

“Arthur,” Merlin breathed in relief.

Arthur tensed, then slowly lifted his head to look at Merlin. His eyes were more grey than blue. Merlin frowned at the look on his face. Merlin had no idea that someone could be angry, sad, lost, and numb all in one expression.

He tentatively walked towards him.

“Merlin, what are you doing out here?” Arthur asked, sounding tired.

“Looking for you.”

“What have I done to deserve that?” he asked, falling flat of amusement and sounding sad.

“I came to apologize,” Merlin said, saying the first thing that came to mind. He hopped he knew what he was doing.

“What have you done this time?” Arthur sighed.

“No, apologize to you,” Merlin clarified. Arthur just looked at him blankly. “About before,” Merlin said nervously.

Realization dawned on Arthur, and the blank mask he had in place fell away as he stared at Merlin with that familiar slack-jawed expression, his mouth falling to make a little ‘o’ shape. Merlin was relieved to see the blue coming back to Arthur’s eyes.

As it seemed Arthur was not going to say anything, Merlin continued, walking forward again until he was a few feet from Arthur.

“I didn’t mean to run away,” Merlin said. He frowned. “Well okay, I did,” he amended. “But it wasn’t for the reasons you probably think.”

“What reasons then?”

“I– ”

Merlin clamped his mouth shut. He looked into Arthur’s eyes, unsure if he could do it. How could he say the words when he couldn’t even bring himself to tell Arthur about his magic? Merlin swallowed hard.

“Good night, Merlin,” Arthur sighed, standing up and turning to walk away.

In a panic, Merlin grabbed hold of his arm. “Wait,” he begged.

Arthur didn’t turn around. But he didn’t leave either.

“I – Arthur, please.”

There was no response. Merlin wanted to scream. He didn’t know how to do this. He didn’t know how he could force the words out. There was no spell to make him do it. There was no potion he could drink. It was all him, and he was _terrified_.

“Arthur,” he tried. He took in a deep, calming breath that did bugger all to calm him down. Merlin closed his eyes and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. When had his throat gone so dry, too? He should probably go get a drink.

Arthur’s smile sparked in his memory from the cave.

Right.

“Arthur, I– ”

“Merlin!” Gwaine yelled, coming to a quick stop out on the balcony. He glanced between Merlin and Arthur, quirking a brow. Merlin glared back as hard as he could.

_Not now, Gwaine,_ he mentally yelled. Gwaine, unfortunately, could not read minds, so the brave knight had no idea how important it was that Merlin finish his sentence.

“Gwaine,” Arthur deadpanned. “Of course.”

“I– ” Gwaine looked to Merlin. “I, uh– ” He looked at Arthur. He looked back to Merlin. He looked back to Arthur. “I need Merlin.”

“Gwaine…” Merlin started.

“No, by all means,” Arthur said, and started walking for the door. “Go run off together again. Don’t let me spoil your fun,” he said, and Merlin raised his eyebrows at his tone.

_Was he always like this?_ Merlin wondered. _How_ had Merlin not realized before? He looked at Gwaine to see if he’d heard it too.

Gwaine looked torn between amusement and urgency.

Urgency won out.

“Right, yeah. Excellent. Excuse us, then,” Gwaine said and moved to grab Merlin’s hand. He dragged Merlin from the balcony. Merlin turned to look over his shoulder, to see Arthur walk off the balcony and out into another hall.

When they were in the hall, Merlin spun to face Gwaine. “What are you doing?! I was just about to tell him! I finally realize, and get the courage to say it, and you stop me! You’re the one who– ”

“We’ve got a problem,” Gwaine interrupted, ignoring Merlin’s little rant.

“What kind of problem?”

“The kind that involves a pissed off king looking to avenge his daughters honor, an advisor to the king who accidentally committed treason twice, a visiting princess who’s just sentenced her almost-husband to death, and the entire fate of a kingdom and world peace.”

“That’s a big fucking problem,” Merlin said. “What happened?”

“When I went to keep an eye on them all, I overheard another a couple of Arthur’s advisers talking about Ashtoran’s plan. The image we saw of him and Princess Adelia talking? It wasn’t to kill Arthur. It was a plot to get him to marry the princess. Ashtoran wants Arthur to be married, as do a lot of his advisers. They think in order to make Camelot stronger, there needs to be a political union between him and one of the neighboring kingdom’s princesses.”

“Not to mention the sizeable piece of land he’s hoping to get,” Merlin muttered.

“Yeah, and Princess Adelia just wants Arthur for herself.”

“She can’t have him.” Merlin frowned.

“Well, she won’t get him, because their plan just blew up in their faces. Ashtoran was going to leak a scandal to the other nobles while he was ‘drunk’ about Arthur deflowering and impregnating the princess, to force them into a marriage.” Gwaine ignored the shock on Merlin’s face. “But one of King Lysder’s servants overheard and _told him_ _before I could intervene_. He’s looking for Arthur now.”

“Why did we leave Arthur?!” Merlin yelled, already turning to run back to him.

“Merlin, if we save Arthur now it won’t matter when King Lysder sends his troops, his spies, and his assassins to Camelot with the sole purpose of killing the king.”

“We have to convince King Lysder that Asthoran was lying,” Merlin realized.

“Even harder, we have to convince him his daughter isn’t even interested in Arthur. If we do that then he’d dismiss Ashtoran’s words anyway.”

“How do we do that?”

“I don’t know. How do we make it seem as if Princess Adelia wouldn’t touch Arthur?”

Merlin started to shake his head, stupefied, when he caught sight of two servants walking down the hall with a large bucket being carried between them. His eyes narrowed.

“What do you think’s in there?” he asked Gwaine.

“I think it’s the leftover food from the ball that’s been made into pigs slop,” Gwaine said, crinkling his nose. “Why?”

“Princess Adelia has a thing about cleanliness.” Merlin smiled.

“I heard about that. She wouldn’t touch an entire platter of fruit because one had a dirty spot on it?”

“Yeah.” Merlin grinned.

Gwaine’s eyes widened in understanding. He turned to the servants, who were just about to disappear down another hall. “You there! What do you have there?” he called out to them.

“Pig slop, sir,” one of them replied, eyes down.

“Bring it here,” Gwaine said. Merlin grinned.

The servants shared a look of confusion with each other before heading their way. They placed the bucket down in front of Gwaine. They glanced to Merlin and back to the floor. The smell of the pig slop was disgusting, and it looked like vomit.

“Sir?” the same servant asked.

“That’ll do,” Gwaine said. They bent to pick it up. “No, leave it.”

“But, sir –“

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t get in trouble,” he told them with his signature mischievous grin. The servants smiled slightly, curtseyed, and left. Gwaine turned to Merlin. “Ready?”

“Where do you think he went?” Merlin asked.

“PENDRAGON!” King Lysder’s voice boomed from outside.

Gwaine and Merlin ran to the balcony, and looked down to see Arthur walking across the courtyard. Merlin frowned, wondering where he was going at this time of night. Arthur hadn’t heard his name being called, and Merlin wanted to scream at him to run or draw his sword but his throat wouldn’t work. All he could do was watch King Lysder appear at the entrance to the castle, eyes furious as he stood at the top of the steps. Princess Adelia appeared behind him, followed by Lord Ashtoran.

“Please, Father,” Princess Adelia was saying. “Please, don’t. He didn’t do anything. It was a lie! Just horrible gossip!” she pleaded. “Please, don’t do this!”

King Lysder shook her arm from his and ran down the steps, drawing his sword, and stating that he didn’t care if it was a lie or not. That he saw the want in her eyes, and in Arthur’s

“Come on, Merlin,” Gwaine said, pulling on his arm. Merlin tore his eyes away from Arthur and rushed into the hall. Gwaine grabbed one side of the bucket and he grabbed the other. “On three. One, two, three!”

They both lifted, and Merlin huffed out a breath at the weight of the bucket.

“Those servants don’t get paid enough,” Gwaine gritted out as they made their way back to the balcony.

Arthur was almost directly below them now. Merlin glanced over to see King Lysder stalking towards Arthur while Princess Adelia and Lord Ashtoran rushed after him. Arthur, unaware, kept walking. Merlin and Gwaine locked eyes.

“Ready?” Merlin asked.

“It’s for his own good,” Gwaine said with a quirk of his brow.

“And Camelot’s,” Merlin added.

“And the world’s,” Gwaine added as well.

“And mine,” Merlin smiled sheepishly.

“On three again,” Gwaine said.

Arthur was directly below them. King Lysder was almost caught up with him. Princess Adelia and Lord Asthoran were almost caught up with King Lysder. At the top of the stairs by the entrance to the castle, Leon, Percival, Elyan, and Lancelot had arrived, and were taking in the scene with shocked faces.

“One,” Merlin said, and they hoisted the bucket up.

Gwen had come out of a door closest to Arthur, seemingly to get some air. Her eyes widened at the scene behind him, and she rushed forward. She yelled his name, but she was still out of his hearing range. The knights were running to take King Lysder down or get to Arthur, or both. Princess Adelia was begging her father to stop, and Lord Ashtoran had joined in, apologizing and taking the blame for the gossip. King Lysder was not listening, too intent on Arthur, who was oblivious to everything happening around him.

“Two,” Gwaine said, and they rested the bucket on the railing.

Everyone was running as hard and fast as they could for Arthur. As the sound of footsteps and voices finally reached his ears, Arthur’s head came up. He turned, his blue eyes widened as King Lysder raised his sword.

“PENDRAGON!” King Lysder yelled again.

“Three!” Gwaine and Merlin yelled at the same time, and pushed the heavy bucket up with their shoulder so it tilted over the railing of the balcony.

Arthur was covered, head to toe, in pig slop within seconds.

He gasped and then froze as it hit him, and promptly spit out mouthfuls of the foul stuff as it dripped into his mouth. The pigslop dripped from his body, his hair, everywhere, and onto the ground as he unfroze. He shook his arms out and wiped the slop from his face.

There were gasps from everyone else outside as they watched. The knights looked shocked, and several of them were able to recover faster and look up to see Gwaine and Merlin still holding the tipped bucket. Lord Ashtoran looked disgusted and properly scandalized at his king. Gwen was gaping, having been closest to Arthur and gotten splashed with the slop as it hit the ground, her dress splattered with it and some of it on her face. Princess Adelia was in hysterics, dry heaving as she looked at Arthur. King Lysder was too shocked to be angry anymore, and after one look to his daughter, realized she wouldn’t even want to hear the name ‘Arthur Pendragon’ again, let alone touch him.

Merlin and Gwaine dropped the bucket back on the balcony and rushed out of view.

“MERLIN!” Arthur screamed anyway.

Merlin and Gwaine were laughing so hard they were doubled over, unable to breathe. Gwaine quickly ended up rolling on the floor, and Merlin dropped to his hands and knees as he gasped for air between gales of laughter. It took them ten minutes to stop, and when they looked at each other they grinned broadly and threw themselves together in a tight hug.

“We did it,” Merlin laughed.

“Did you see their faces?!” Gwaine asked, laughing again.

“Never mind theirs, did you see Arthur’s?” Merlin asked, burying his head in Gwaine’s neck to try to muffle his almost manic laughter.

“Merlin!” Arthur suddenly yelled, somewhere in the castle looking for Merlin.

Gwaine and Merlin jumped apart. They turned to see Arthur, still covered in pig slop, just turning the corner. When his eyes landed on them, they narrowed dangerously and Merlin had a strong feeling of _not good_ , when suddenly Arthur started storming up to them.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” he yelled, and Merlin realized too late that he was talking to _Gwaine_.

“Hugging Merlin, of course,” Gwaine answered, and Merlin’s eyes snap to him because _oh my god Gwaine, what are you doing?! Shut up!_

“This is your doing, isn’t it?!” Arthur yelled, gesturing to himself.

“No, Arthur, it wasn’t just Gwaine,” Merlin tried to explain. “It was my idea.”

“You put him up to this, didn’t you?!” Arthur continued yelling at one of his best knights. “You’ve been influencing him for weeks! I’ve been watching you! I thought it was nothing, but then– ”

Arthur cuts himself off, his jaw tense. Merlin was lost, and about to ask him what he meant, when Gwaine spoke.

“You’re the one who told me to look out for him!”

“YES. LOOK OUT. NOT F– ”

“ARTHUR!” Merlin yelled in shock.

“You should think very carefully about your next words, mate, or they might be your last,” Gwaine threatened.

“GWAINE!” Merlin yelled, turning his shock on his friend. “What are you doing? You’re just making it worse!”

“Shut up, Merlin,” Gwaine told him, as if he had everything under control. As if Arthur wasn’t fuming and looking murderous and making all sorts of assumptions already.

“Don’t you tell him to shut up!” Arthur yelled. He and Gwaine were now chest to chest, eyes locked and hands on the hilts of their swords.

“Both of you, stop it!” Merlin yelled at them. Gwaine glanced to Merlin and Merlin’s stomach dropped at the glint in Gwaine’s eyes. _Oh no_ , Merlin thought. Whatever it was that Gwaine had planned was not going to end well.

“I’ve heard his screams enough last night,” Gwaine said suggestively in a quiet voice.

Merlin closed his eyes.

The clash of a sword and Arthur’s yell wasn’t surprising. When Merlin opened his eyes again he saw Arthur attacking Gwaine with all that he had, blow after blow raining down on the knight. Gwaine blocked each one easily, as even Arthur used to warn against fighting while angry. It never led to good technique, just powerful swings. Gwaine never went on the offense, instead letting Arthur take his aggression and frustration out on him.

Merlin watched with dawning realization that this was Gwaine’s plan all along.

“Arthur!” Gwen’s voice came in a stern yell.  Gwen rushed forward as Leon, Percival, Elyan, and Lancelot came running up behind her. Gwen came to a stop beside Merlin as the knights started to grab at Arthur and drag him away from Gwaine.

“Let go of me!” Arthur yelled, thrashing about as he glared murderously at Gwaine.

The knights didn’t say anything as they held Arthur back. Lancelot went to Gwaine to make sure he was okay, but Gwaine shrugged it off and motioned that he was all right, before he sunk down the wall to sit with his knees bent as everyone tried to calm the situation down. Percival and Leon were containing Arthur, even as the king lessened his struggle.

Eventually, Arthur stopped moving at all. The knights let him go, and he stood, still covered in pig slop. The knights looked at their dirtied chainmail and sighed. Arthur paid no attention to them, too busy staring at the ground as he got his breathing under control.

Before anyone could break the silence, Arthur spoke.

“I want a bath ready in my room by the time I reach it. The servants better be out of there by then too. I’ll undress myself,” he announced, and spun around, storming off down the hall.

“I’ll go get that done, then,” Gwen sighed. She looked down at her dress. “And then go change.” She sighed again.

“Anyone else for a change?” Elyan asked, looking at himself and the other knights.

Various noises of agreement came from the others before they all turned to leave. Soon enough, it was Gwaine and Merlin left in the hall, as it had been before, but this time they were not laughing.

“He’s such an ass,” Merlin said, shaking his head in disbelief. “A hardheaded ass.”

“Merlin.” Gwaine sighed, looking up from where he was still resting against the wall. He had not, apparently, blocked all of Arthur’s attacks as well as it had seemed. He had several bruises forming on his face, and one long cut across his cheek. He looked worn out. “Just do us all a favor and go sort him out, yeah?”

“What am I supposed to do? He just made it clear he wants to be alone. He didn’t even order me to get his bath,” Merlin said with a frustrated crease between his brows.

Gwaine laughed tiredly, his head falling back and his breathing still a little rough from fighting off Arthur. “I’m sure you’ll think of something, but for the love of Camelot, go do something about it. Before we all die from this thing between the two of you.”

Merlin opened his mouth to argue, but shut it when he couldn’t think of anything to say to that. He frowned. “Okay,” he said, and Gwaine smiled, hoisting himself up off the wall. Gwaine passed by him, putting a hand on his shoulder and patting him twice before walking away.

Merlin took a breath and forced himself to go to Arthur’s chambers, having no idea what he was going to do once he got there.

 

 

 

 

 

Merlin stood outside Arthur’s rooms, his hand poised to knock on the heavy wood door. He couldn’t bring himself to. He looked around to see if there was anyone about, but there was no one. He didn’t know who he was hoping for. Just a distraction, he supposed.

Swallowing down his nerves, Merlin decided to forgo the knocking and go in.

He turned the handle slowly, and opened the door. He crept inside, glancing up to see Arthur with his back to him in the tub. He closed the door, wincing as it made a louder thud than he had wanted it to. Arthur heard.

“I said leave me,” he ordered tiredly.

Merlin said nothing, but walked forward.

“Are you deaf? Leave!”

Merlin stopped right behind Arthur, and blushed as he looked down to see him naked in the bath. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen Arthur before like this. But those times didn’t mean anything. They didn’t matter. This mattered.

Arthur had his legs stretched out, with his arms on the sides of the tub. The hot water was up to the middle of his chest, and he sat back staring blankly ahead. His shoulders were slumped, and there was a general air of defeat about him.

Defeat because he thought he’d lost Merlin to _Gwaine_.

Merlin smiled. And Arthur called Merlin an idiot.

Without thinking about it twice, Merlin bent down and slid his arms around Arthur’s neck, and down his chest in one smooth motion. It was the most intimate pose Merlin had ever been in, and it sent a thrill down his spine at the feeling of Arthur in his arms. Especially Arthur’s wet and naked body in his arms. Merlin’s blush deepened.

“What are you– ” Arthur tensed, and turned to see who dared to touch him so intimately. As his face turned from outrage to shock when he saw Merlin’s blue eyes so close to his own, Merlin kissed him.

Merlin’s lips pressed into Arthur’s forcefully at first. In his shock, Arthur didn’t respond, but as Merlin softened the kiss, easing off the pressure to convey as much as he could without words, Arthur suddenly came to life. From this angle, and being stuck in the bath, Arthur couldn’t turn around to grab the back of Merlin’s head. He couldn’t reach out to touch Merlin at all, but he could surge up and kiss him with everything he had.

Merlin hoped his kiss said everything he hadn’t been able to say on the balcony. He kissed Arthur without the need to breathe, without any awareness of the rest of the world beyond the two of them. And Merlin let Arthur kiss him the same way.

By the time they broke apart, their lungs were burning desperately with the need for air. They panted quietly as they searched each other’s eyes.

“Did we just kiss?” Arthur asked, his voice a little wobbly.

“Yeah,” Merlin answered.

Arthur nodded. “It was good. Let’s do it again,” Arthur decided and they surged forward.

Merlin didn’t let this kiss go nearly as long. “Wait, wait,” he tried, pulling away and ending up with Arthur redirecting his lips to his jawline. Merlin gasped. “Arthur,” he pleaded.

“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur ordered as he licked a strip across Merlin’s jaw to his lips, where he tangled up Merlin’s tongue.

“But Arthur– ” Merlin said, once they were forced, by the annoying need for air again, to break apart.

“No, I’ve waited too long for this,” Arthur said and shifted in the tub until he was on his knees, facing Merlin. The water splashed out of the tub and soaked into Merlin’s trousers. Arthur glanced down as Merlin gasped at the feeling. “You’ll have to take those off now,” he said, voice gone lower.

Merlin shuddered and wiped the smug look off Arthur’s face with another kiss. He kissed Arthur’s lips, then moved to his jaw, feeling the little bits of stubble there. “We,” he said as he kissed Arthur’s jaw, “are so stupid,” he finished, moving down Arthur’s jawline with little kisses, and causing Arthur to gasp in turn.

“Speak for yourself,” Arthur managed to pant out.

“We could’ve been doing this for _years_ ,” Merlin stressed, sucking on Arthur’s pulse point. Arthur’s head lolled back for a second as a deep moan was pulled from his chest.

“You’re right. We’re both so stupid,” Arthur agreed and pulled Merlin flush up against the tub as he plundered his mouth. “If only you weren’t so oblivious,” Arthur said once they came back up for air.

“Me?!” Merlin squawked indignantly. “You’re the oblivious one!”

Arthur was pulling at Merlin’s shirt. “Don’t be ridiculous. I couldn’t have been more obvious,” Arthur scoffed.

“I was the obvious one,” Merlin countered. “Everyone could tell from the way I followed you about,” he explained, and lifted his arms for Arthur to pull his shirt off.

“The knights have a bet on how long it would take for me to crack and throw you over my shoulder to take you up here and ravish you,” Arthur said, staring hungrily at Merlin’s body. Merlin almost smirked. He had tried telling Arthur that he’d gotten muscular over the years, but Arthur had always snorted at the idea of Merlin not being lanky and weak. “They thought I didn’t know,” Arthur murmured as his hands went to Merlin’s hips and he tugged him closer. His lips enveloped one of Merlin’s nipples.

“I think,” Merlin gasped, “Gwaine told me about that,” he said with a thoughtful frown, remembering Gwaine’s words. Arthur bit down a little harder than was pleasurable. Merlin yelped. “Arthur!”

“Do _not_ mention Gwaine. Not now. Not ever when we’re like _this_ ,” Arthur threatened, glaring up at him. The intimidation was ruined by the fact that Arthur’s eyes were dark with lust, his quickly drying hair was a mess, his body was still dripping wet, and his swollen lips were still around Merlin’s nipple. But Merlin didn’t have the heart to tell him that. Or the ability to do so without blushing so hard it would hurt.

So Merlin just said, “Okay,” in a gravelly voice, which had Arthur’s eyes darkening even further as they gleamed up at him. Merlin swallowed, and Arthur watched his throat work.

Arthur pulled away and got himself out of the bath, not bothering with a towel. Merlin’s didn’t know where to look, but look he did. Arthur was, once again, smiling smugly at him and something flared in Merlin, prompting him to rush forward and kiss the smugness out of him.

Merlin and Arthur were wrapped around each other, mouths locked and tongues far too busy to say a word. They walked each other back towards the bed, hands helpfully removing their clothes along the way. When Merlin was completely naked, Arthur’s hand went directly to Merlin’s cock.

Merlin gasped loudly. Why hadn’t he thought of that?! He grabbed Arthur’s cock in turn and Arthur groaned. Merlin’s satisfaction was short lived as the king pushed him back and onto the bed. Merlin bounced on the red sheets. He watched, grinning, as Arthur climbed on the bed as well, a hand going to his chest and pushing him back to lie down as Arthur crawled over top of him. Merlin hesitated as Arthur’s hand went to his bare hip.

“Merlin,” Arthur asked, his lips painfully close to Merlin’s.

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever –“

“No,” Merlin cut him off before he finished, a blush flushing his skin all the way down to his chest. At first Arthur looked confused, and Merlin expected him to ask about Gwaine, and was ready to call Arthur an assumptive prat, but then Arthur paused, seemingly not surprised at this revelation, and lookedthoughtful. “What?” Merlin asked with a slight frown.

“I suspected I’d have to teach you everything.” Arthur sighed, acting very put upon. Merlin cocked an eyebrow.

“Well, if it’s that much of a hassle, I can always see if – ”

Arthur’s hand came over his mouth before he could get the name out. Arthur was glaring at him hard, blue eyes turned to steel. His mouth lowered to one of Merlin’s ears, and Merlin, mouth still covered with Arthur’s hand, huffed a breath, his eyes sliding closed at the feeling of Arthur’s hot breath against the shell of his ear.

“What did I say?” Arthur asked, making Merlin moan. He bit Merlin’s earlobe lightly. “No matter,” Arthur said, his mood shifted to a suspiciously light one all of a sudden, making Merlin glance at him sideways with a frown. “You won’t be able to say anyone else’s name by the end of tonight,” Arthur promised, and then he removed his hand only to cover Merlin’s mouth with his own before Merlin could gasp in a breath.

Merlin’s eyes closed in bliss as he felt Arthur’s tongue dip into his mouth. The warm tongue lapped at the roof of his mouth, and he groaned at the sensation. Merlin’s hand curled into Arthur’s blond hair, grabbing handfuls of the silky golden strands. His other hand went around Arthur’s back as his legs wrapped around his hips. He pulled Arthur down onto him, moaning into his mouth as he felt Arthur’s damp skin touch his own.

“Merlin,” Arthur whispered against his lips, and Merlin’s eyes fluttered open to see Arthur staring down at him in hunger and amazement. Merlin felt himself smile widely up at Arthur. Arthur had that slack-jawed expression again, his breath catching. Arthur captured Merlin’s lips again in an achingly sweet kiss. “I love you, Merlin,” he whispered, as if he forced it out past nerves, eyes closed tight.

Merlin’s eyes widened, both at Arthur saying the words and his apparent nerves. Arthur getting nervous? Arthur peeped at him, uncertain blue eyes looking into his own shining ones. Merlin beamed as Arthur frowned.

Hauling Arthur down and sucking on his tongue, Merlin almost crowed in triumph at Arthur’s surprised moan. Merlin sucked on Arthur’s tongue as he rolled his hips up. Arthur was losing the battle to keep in the embarrassing noises. As Merlin pulled away, he left Arthur panting hard with his eyes still closed.

“I love you, too,” Merlin smiled floppily.

Arthur’s eyes popped open at the words and Merlin, because he wanted to watch Arthur’s face as he did it, rolled his hips up. Arthur’s eyes rolled back for a moment as he groaned, and Merlin grinned.

“You’re so cute when you do that,” Merlin told him.

When he recovered, Arthur looked down at him, almost offended, but not fully able to hide the smile at being called cute by Merlin. “I’ll have you know I’m _sexy_ , not _cute_ ,” he said with a sniff.

Merlin grinned. “How cute,” he responded.

Arthur playfully glared at him.

“I’ll show you cute,” Arthur muttered threateningly and slid down Merlin’s body to swallow him in one motion.

Merlin yelled.

Arthur smirked around his mouthful.

“Ar – Arthur,” Merlin stuttered as he felt suction. “Arthur,” he breathed, his hands grabbing hold of the sheets either side of him in a hard grip.

Arthur sucked, and moved his lips up and down Merlin’s length, relishing the little sounds that escaped Merlin’s mouth. He licked up the vein on the underside of Merlin’s cock, and Merlin yelled again. He paid careful attention to every bit of Merlin, but after a couple minutes, focused his efforts on the tip.

“Arthur, I can’t,” Merlin breathed.

Arthur ignored him and focused on seeing whether he could slide his tongue all the way around the tip in one smooth motion. He could. He then decided to find out what noise Merlin would make if he wiggled his tongue on the very top. Merlin’s hips bucked and he moaned, long and dirty. Arthur liked this discovery game.

He kept going, discovering all sort of things, until Merlin was a panting mess of a thing. Arthur then turned his attention lower. He licked over each of Merlin’s balls, taking them briefly into his mouth one at a time. Merlin was begging.

Arthur wondered if he even knew what for. He decided to show him with a little teaser, and slid his tongue down further until it reached Merlin’s hole. Merlin jumped, causing Arthur to get hit in the head lightly by his knee.

“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur warned.

“Arthur,” Merlin breathed, a debauched mess, and Arthur forgave him.

He licked over the hole, this time holding Merlin’s legs apart with his hands. Merlin gasped. When Arthur pushed his tongue inside, Merlin thrashed about. Arthur smiled, withdrawing his tongue to glance up at the expression on Merlin’s face.

Merlin looked down, panting, as the wonderful sensation stopped. It wasn’t until he locked eyes with Arthur that the prat went back to what he was doing. A tongue dived into him again, and Merlin groaned hard. There weren’t even words.

“Arthur,” he moaned.

Then there were fingers joining the tongue. One finger slid in. It was warm and slippery, making Merlin wonder where the moisture had come from. He managed to pull himself together long enough to look down and see an ornate red flask lying off to his right by Arthur’s head. Merlin had always wondered what that was. It was often in Arthur’s bedside table or under his pillow.

All thought left him as another finger joined the first, and they brushed against something that _had_ to be magic. He wasn’t sure if he yelled, moaned, or was too choked on pleasure to make a single sound. He didn’t care which it was, as long as Arthur kept doing that.

He did.

For who knows long, Merlin’s body sang with joy as the pleasurable stroking continued.

“Arthur,” he said breathlessly, eyes closed. “What is that?”

“I believe it is called a prostate,” Arthur said.

“It’s wonderful,” Merlin declared.

“Oh, you like it?” Arthur asked, and plunged his fingers in and rubbed harder against it. Merlin moaned so hard he felt it in his toes. Arthur’s deep chuckle made him shudder. “I suppose you do,” he mused innocently.

“More,” Merlin begged.

“Did you just give me an order?” Arthur asked, cocking an eyebrow at Merlin.

“Please, Arthur,” Merlin almost whimpered.

Arthur added another finger, and after a few seconds, scissored his fingers. Merlin arched off the bed. He cooed as Arthur kissed his inner thigh, and kept working his fingers in and out. Merlin could only handle it for a few more minutes before his body threatened to explode if he didn’t get more.

“Fuck me,” Merlin demanded, not caring how breathless it came out.

“Now that,” Arthur said, removing his fingers, “is an order I will gladly follow from you,” he stated and soon enough Merlin felt something bigger, harder, and wetter against his hole.

“Yes,” he hissed as he felt Arthur push forward.

“Push back,” Arthur whispered, and Merlin had no idea that Arthur had even moved to be between his legs, let alone lowered himself to hover just above Merlin’s lips.

Merlin moaned and did as he was told. The gasp at the initial burn was silenced as Arthur kissed him. He let himself be taken completely out of the conscious world by Arthur’s kisses, not even registering a hint of pain as he focused on the warm tongue in his mouth and the silky feeling of Arthur’s lips.

He was vaguely aware of the pushing of something inside of him, of something much larger than fingers being slowly moved further and further in. It stopped when he felt skin against his bottom. Merlin broke the kiss out of curiosity, and looked down to see Arthur’s pelvis flush against him. He swallowed hard as he realized what that meant.

“Arthur?” Merlin asked.

“Yes,” Arthur gritted out.

Surprised, Merlin looked up to see a sheen of sweat on Arthur’s face, and a deep look of concentration. He frowned. He lifted his head to place a kiss on Arthur’s cheek and Arthur’s head dropped down onto his collarbone as Merlin’s body shifted.

“Are you okay?” Merlin asked, a little concerned at the strangled sound that escaped Arthur, muffled by his collarbone.

A laugh, slightly manic, came from Arthur then.

“You have no idea,” Arthur said, almost to himself. “You have no idea, do you? What this feels like? What _you_ feel like?”

“Is it good?”

Another laugh causing concern for Arthur’s mental state came bubbling out of him.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Merlin murmured in surprise as he looked down at Arthur.

Arthur was frowned, trying to do… something. He wasn’t moving. He was breathing hard, and his mouth was kissing, licking, and sucking at Merlin’s collarbone, but he wasn’t moving. Merlin thought moving sounded wonderful. So, with little idea of how to get the hint across to Arthur, and motivate him to move, Merlin tried squeezing himself.

Arthur screamed.

Merlin jolted at the sound and Arthur’s head came up. He was glaring at Merlin hard and Merlin looked back with wide eyes. Before Arthur could open his mouth and call Merlin a name and ruin the mood, Merlin did it again.

This time, Arthur did not scream. Instead he dropped onto Merlin and groaned like it was the last thing he’d ever do. Merlin was quite content to have Arthur’s naked body pressed completely to him, so he wrapped his arms around Arthur’s back and hugged him to him. He nuzzled his nose into Arthur’s hair, taking a deep breath of the familiar scent.

“You’re going to kill me, Merlin,” Arthur told him, but as his face was planted in the crook of Merlin’s neck, and Arthur didn’t even bother to lift his head away as he spoke, it came out more like ‘mmf gmmn kmmf mm merfmm.’

“What?” Merlin asked, wiggling his bottom because he felt like it.

Arthur pushed himself up, arms straight as he looked down at Merlin very seriously.

“I said,” he started, and then pulled out slowly. Merlin made an odd noise he’d never heard himself make before. “You’re.” Arthur thrust forward. Merlin gasped, then whined as Arthur pulled back. “Going.” Arthur did it again. “To.” And again. “Kill.” And again. “Me.” And again. “ _Mer_ lin.” And one more time even harder.

“Arthur!” Merlin yelled, clutching Arthur tight.

“You absolute tease,” Arthur accused and started thrusting to a regular rhythm.

“Me?!” Merlin asked as he took the pleasurable onslaught.

“Do you have any idea how – how – ” Arthur made a frustrated sound. He kissed Merlin and Merlin hummed into his mouth. “I love you, you prat,” Arthur told him.

“You’re the prat, not me,” Merlin slurred, drunk off pleasure.

“Your prat,” Arthur said. Merlin beamed.

“My prat,” Merlin confirmed. He lifted his hips to meet Arthur’s thrusts. “And I’m your idiot,” he told him.

It was Arthur’s turn to beam. “My idiot,” Arthur agreed. His thrusts were speeding up. “Mine,” he said again against Merlin’s lips before tangling his tongue up with his own.

Panting, moaning, groaning, and the slap of skin was echoing off Arthur’s walls. The bed was making a lovely thudding sound to add to the symphony of their lovemaking.

“Arthur,” Merlin moaned, breath catching as he felt a hot coiling pressure building to a boil in low in his stomach.

“Yes,” Arthur hissed, catching on.

Merlin gasped as Arthur’s thrusts got harder and faster. He arched up, his orgasm rocketing to its peak, gasping over and over as Arthur didn’t miss his prostate once. Merlin pulled Arthur closer to him, matching the rougher rhythm. He felt his Arthur’s forehead lean onto his and he could feel Arthur’s pants on his mouth.

“ _Merlin_ ,” Arthur breathed, like it was sacred, and Merlin screamed Arthur’s name in response, coming hard.

 

Arthur made a choked sound as Merlin clenched around him, and five more thrusts were all it took before Arthur gave one last hard and deep thrust into Merlin and stilled. He was panting hard as he came, and neither one of them could say if Arthur yelled or whispered Merlin’s name because it felt like both at the same time. Merlin could feel Arthur spurting inside of him and gasped at the new sensation, feeling warm, dirty, and satisfied.

Arthur had dropped on top of Merlin again, completely boneless. Merlin enjoyed the feeling of his sex- warmed body there, so he wrapped his arms around him and snuggled into him.

“I love you,” he murmured by Arthur’s ear. Arthur smiled tiredly against his skin.

“Love you, too,” he said before sighing happily.

After a few minutes, Arthur moved himself off of Merlin, much to Merlin’s dissatisfaction. But Arthur quickly maneuvered Merlin into positon, tucked up under Arthur’s arm. Merlin did not mention that he was taller, and it made more sense for Arthur to rest his head on Merlin’s chest. Partially because he knew Arthur wouldn’t appreciate being reminded that he was short (something to do with Arthur’s fragile masculinity), and partially because it felt too damn good to move.

Merlin lay there, his cheek resting against Arthur’s chest, hearing the still rapid heartbeat as they both came down from their high. He felt Arthur’s hand on his hip, moving in slowly circles as Arthur stared up at the canopy of his bed. Merlin watched Arthur’s chest rise and fall, thinking it an excellent tool to use to fall asleep.

Sadly, they could not fall asleep because there was still a ball going on downstairs.

Merlin blinked. The _ball_!

He shot upright. Well, okay, he tried to shoot upright, but Arthur’s arm locked him in position, and at the first sign of Merlin trying to ruin their relaxing happy glow by moving out of their cuddling position, Arthur held him down tighter.

“Arthur!” Merlin tried.

“No,” Arthur answered petulantly.

Merlin frowned up at him.

Arthur ignored him.

“Arthur, come on. We have to get up,” Merlin said.

“No, we don’t.”

“ _Yes_ , we do!”

“I am the king, and I say no.”

With that Arthur shimmied further into the comfort of his bed, and Merlin.

“Yes, you’re the king. And you’ve got a ball you’re supposed to be hosting,” Merlin reminded him.

Arthur froze as he remembered. He groaned, and it was not at all like the ones that were coming out of him before, which had already become Merlin’s new favorite sound. No, this was a but-Merlin-I-don’t-want-to-have-any-responsibilities groan.

Merlin knew it well.

“Come on,” Merlin sighed, and tried to get up again.

Arthur, the child, let him get up just enough to make it easier to pull Merlin up and over him to lie on top of him. Arthur smiled at his plan working so well when _all_ of them managed to line up. Merlin frowned. Arthur grabbed a handful of Merlin’s ass. Merlin frowned harder and slapped Arthur’s hand away.

“Come on, _Your Highness_ , you’ve got guests,” Merlin said and got up, Arthur surprisingly, and reluctantly, letting him go.

He hadn’t become such a good warrior without knowing when a battle was lost. Arthur sighed as Merlin got up off the bed and went over to find his clothes.

“Oi!” Merlin said, looking at the state of the room. He watched as Arthur lazily peered over at him. “What is this?” Merlin asked, gesturing to the room.

“You were there, were you not?” Arthur asked, his attention trained on Merlin’s naked body. “It wasn’t just me who did that,” he told him, speaking to Merlin’s ass if his line of sight was anything to go by.

“I was too otherwise engaged to notice that we were destroying your room,” Merlin said, a blush coming to him. Arthur noticed and sat further up in bed, watching Merlin with amusement as the blush spread. Merlin refused to meet his gaze. “I’m new to this, I didn’t know it would feel this– ” Merlin floundered around in various gestures as he searched for a word.

“Amazing?” Arthur supplied, a smug smile on his face. He folded his arms and rested his head on them as he leaned back. “Wonderful?” he suggested, looking at his canopy again. “Earth- shattering?”

“Prat,” Merlin said as he turned to face their clothes on the ground. Arthur’s were covered in pig slop still, and his were soaked. The floor was generally soaked, and Merlin wondered how he had not registered the sloshing water from the tub making this much of a mess.

Merlin bent down to pick up his soapy shirt. He felt hands on his hips, and turned his head to see Arthur had climbed off the bed and come up behind him. Merlin quirked an eyebrow.

“Can I help you, _my lord_?” he asked sarcastically.

Arthur grinned at him.

“Insatiable prat,” Merlin muttered as he grabbed his shirt.

When he stood up, Arthur did not step back, and in fact pulled Merlin flush against him.

“Is that anyway to talk to your king?” he asked.

“Insatiable royal prat,” Merlin corrected.

Arthur grinned again and spun him around to kiss him.

“You’re far too happy,” Merlin commented.

“I told you that I’ve been waiting for this for a long time,” Arthur said.

“How long?”

Arthur thought about it for a second, his hands shifting from Merlin’s hips to his ass.

“I’d say since ‘can you walk on your knees,’ probably,” he said seriously.

Merlin snorted.

“Maybe sooner,” Arthur grinned.

Merlin kissed him.

“Still a prat,” he announced. “But my prat,” he vowed.

Arthur kissed him.

“My idiot.”

Arthur kissed him again, and Merlin moaned.

“Arthur, no,” Merlin tried.

“But, Merlin, we’ve got so much time to make up for,” Arthur told him, moving to his neck.

Merlin’s eyes closed, and he struggled to find a reason to say no again. Fortunately, sounds from the ball drifted up through the window. Merlin pushed Arthur away.

“Remind me to board that window up,” Arthur said as he glared at the window.

“We’ve got to get dressed,” Merlin said.

“I don’t want you in clothes,” Arthur said and pulled him back into him, capturing Merlin’s mouth.

Merlin let Arthur kiss him to the point of almost forgetting the world, but pulled away before he forgot completely. Arthur pouted, and Merlin, without a thought, kissed his pout away. Arthur made a noise of approval.

When Arthur’s hands started to roam, Merlin pulled back enough to speak.

“Arthur,” Merlin said chidingly. “It was your idea to throw this ball, so you’ve got to be there for it. Come on,” Merlin said, his hands tangling in Arthur hair as Arthur settled his hands around his waist. Arthur began kissing Merlin’s neck again. “We’ve got all day tomorrow,” Merlin tried to coax. Arthur hummed and sucked Merlin’s pulse point. “We can stay in bed all day,” Merlin tried again. “I promise. All day. You and me. In your bed,” Merlin’s eyes fluttered and he realized he was emphasizing the wrong things as Arthur’s hands held tighter on his hips. “Tomorrow,” Merlin said. “Arthur,” Merlin moaned. “Tomorrow.” He closed his eyes as Arthur’s tongue licked over the little bite he gave to Merlin’s pulse point. “You can even tie me to the bed,” Merlin mumbled, “but tomorrow.”

Arthur froze.

Merlin sighed, unsure if it was in disappointment or relief. Probably both.

Before Arthur unfroze, Merlin reluctantly extracted himself from Arthur’s warm and strong arms. He turned to look down at his other clothes, and sighed.

He went over to pick up his trousers.

“You’re not actually going to wear those, are you?” Arthur asked.

“What else am I going to wear?” Merlin asked, going over to the bath tub and wringing his clothes out over it.

“Surely you can borrow something of mine.” Arthur laughed.

“Oh.”

Arthur went to his wardrobe and pulled out a Pendragon red shirt and a pair of dark trousers. He threw them at Merlin. Merlin caught them and tugged them on. They were a bit too big, but he put his slightly damp belt on over them and tightened it until they fit. He looked at Arthur to get his opinion. Arthur nodded and threw a jacket over to him.

The jacket was far too big, and couldn’t be made to look like it fit. Merlin sighed, because it was soft and comfy, but it was obviously not his. And by the quality of leather, it was not too hard to guess who it did belong to.

“Why are you taking it off?” Arthur asked with a frown.

“It doesn’t fit,” Merlin said.

“So?”

“And it’s obviously yours,” Merlin said.

“So?”

“And– ”

Merlin’s eyes narrowed. He looked at Arthur, who was getting dressed in a dark grey shirt and dark brown trousers. Arthur looked back at him innocently, one leg in his trousers. He eyed Merlin in his jacket, a satisfied smile forming despite his best efforts.

“Possessive little– ”

The knock at the door interrupted them.

“One moment, please,” Arthur called. The two of them got dressed quickly. “Who is it?” Arthur asked as he brushed off his jacket.

“Gwaine,” Gwaine called back.

“Hang on,” Arthur said and walked over to Merlin. Merlin frowned as Arthur brushed his leather jacket. When Arthur looked satisfied, he called out, “Come in.”

Just as the door opened, Arthur pulled Merlin to him, and kissed him breathless.

“Should I come back later, then?” Gwaine asked with amusement.

Merlin pushed Arthur away from him. Arthur let him, licking his lips in satisfaction. Merlin glared.

“ _Prat_ ,” Merlin stressed.

“Gwaine, what can I do for you?” Arthur asked, ignoring Merlin and turning to his knight.

“People are wondering where you’ve gone,” Gwaine told him.

“Are they? How long have we been gone?”

“Almost two hours,” Gwaine replied.

Merlin gaped, and Arthur sent him a happy little look, eyebrows raising suggestively.

“I suppose we better go down there then,” Arthur said, turning back to Gwaine.

“I suppose so,” Gwaine agreed.

“Two hours?!” Merlin said in disbelief.

“Do keep up, Merlin,” Arthur sighed, as he and Gwaine walked out the door.

 

 

 

 

 

At the ball, the guests seem to be winding down from all the entertainment. Most of them were sitting down at the tables, eating and talking as they sipped their drinks. Princess Adelia and King Lysder had calmed down and were talking with Percival and Leon. Lancelot was standing by the back wall, sipping mulled wine, and Gwaine went over to talk to him. Elyan was dancing with a pretty girl, smiling as he bowed to her as the song finished.

Lord Ashtoran was nowhere to be seen.

Arthur heard the musicians start up another song and turned to Merlin.

“Care to dance?” he asked, hand out.

Merlin raised his eyebrows.

“I thought you didn’t like to dance,” he reminded him.

“And I thought I told you that I’ve never said that,” Arthur said, amused. “It depends on the partner,” he clarified at Merlin’s confused look. “And I’ve been wanting to dance with you all night.” He smiled.

Merlin blushed. Arthur smiled wider.

Merlin took Arthur’s hand and they walked out to the dance floor. Arthur stepped close, closer than was really proper, and placed his hand on his waist. His other took Merlin’s in hand, and Merlin rolled his eyes at Arthur’s assumption that he would lead.

Not that Merlin hadn’t planned on that being the case, because Merlin wasn’t the best dancer anyway, but that wasn’t the point.

Arthur danced them around the floor, bringing everyone’s attention their way. There were whispers amongst a lot of people. Merlin was shocked to see a lot of money being passed around. Amongst all of the knights, but far too many of the nobles as well as the servants.

Just how many people made bets on them?

Arthur, paying no attention to what was happening around them, spun Merlin around and pulled him closer. Merlin blinked up at him. He smiled and gestured subtly for Arthur to spin him again.

“Don’t be such a girl, Merlin,” Arthur smiled, but did it anyway.

Merlin, on his spin back in, caught a glimpse of Gwaine grinning at him. He saw Gwaine elbow Lancelot to look and as Arthur pulled him far too close for propriety, he watched as Lancelot stumbled and his wine splashed. It landed right on Gwen, who had just come out of the side door.

She sighed and looked down at her purple dress, having just changed. Lancelot apologized profusely, and was looking very sheepish. Arthur swayed with Merlin around the dance floor, but Merlin made sure to watch what was happening with Gwen and Lancelot.

Merlin caught Gwaine’s eye and they both cocked an eyebrow as they mutually signaled their acknowledgment of the purple dress. Just like the one in the image of the stream back in the cave that showed Gwen and Lancelot finally getting together.

They both turned their attention back to the couple-to-be, and were happy to see the two of them smiling at each other with slight blushes. Lancelot held his hand out to Gwen, giving her a little bow. Gwen curtseyed and accepted.

As Lancelot led Gwen to the dance floor, Gwaine and Merlin grinned at each other. Arthur turned them, and Merlin’s view changed to the front entrance of the ballroom. He saw Anna walk in, looking beautiful in a pale rose gown. He turned his head to make eye contact with Gwaine.

When he had Gwaine’s attention, Merlin nodded not so subtly with his head in Anna’s direction. Gwaine frowned and turned his eyes to the front of the room, and then they widened when they took Anna in. He smiled broadly at Merlin and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as he went over to greet her. Merlin smiled happily as he watched Anna’s face light up as Gwaine approached.

“What are you grinning at?” Arthur asked him.

“Gwaine and Anna,” Merlin said.

Arthur turned his head to see Gwaine leading Anna to the dance floor.

“Hmm,” Arthur huffed uncertain.

“They’re good together,” Merlin said. He looked back at Arthur, who turned to meet his eyes. “Like us.” Merlin smiled.

Arthur matched his smile.

“Emrys, so good to see you!” Kayik’s voice said.

Merlin froze, eyes widening. He and Arthur stopped dancing, and Merlin looked behind him to see Kayik, in full druid attire, smiling at him.

“Emrys, this is my master, Geadon, the one I told you about,” Kayik said, gesturing to a man behind him dressed similarly.

The man had bushy brown hair and dark eyes. His face looked too long, but his smile was wide and he looked kind. He looked between Merlin and Arthur with approval.

“I hope you do not mind our arrival,” Geadon said in a deep voice. “An old friend of mine bumped into me at a tavern in town and assured me all were welcome,” he said.

An old friend? Gaius, Merlin realized. Gaius still went to taverns?

“Not at all,” Arthur said.

“I am Geadon, Keeper of the Land of Untold Stories,” Geadon said, glancing to Merlin with a slight reprimand in his eyes. Merlin tried not to look too guilty.

“I see,” Arthur said, though it was obvious he did not see.

“It is an honor to meet you both,” Geadon said, bowing to Arthur. “Especially you, Emrys,” he said, and bowed a little lower.

Merlin’s eyes darted to Arthur.

“Is everything all right?” Geadon asked, glancing to Kayik for understanding. Kayik shook his head in confusion. Geadon looked from Arthur to Merlin to Arthur. “Does he– ” Geadon nodded. “Ah, I see. I apologize. Always saying things when I shouldn’t,” he said.

Merlin was still frozen on the spot.

“He still does not know?” Kayik asked Merlin, not very quietly.

Merlin couldn’t speak.

“Ah,” Arthur said, and nodded in understanding. Merlin turned, eyes wide in panic, to face him. “Is this the part where I pretend not to know that you have magic?” Arthur asked, looking amused and smug.

“What?” Merlin squeaked.

“So, he does know!” Geadon smiled.

Kayik smiled at Merlin.

“No, he– ” Merlin frowned.

Arthur sighed, and rolled his eyes. “Merlin, I’ve told you time and time again, you are the most obvious person I’ve ever met. Completely incapable of keeping a secret. Did I not say, in front of my father even, that I would know if you were a sorcerer?”

Merlin could do nothing but gape.

“And then you went and used your magic in the forest not a month ago,” Arthur reminded him.

“You saw that?” Merlin managed to ask.

Arthur arched an eyebrow. “Merlin, everyone saw that. Men don’t go flying backwards by themselves,” Arthur said slowly, as if talking to a child.

Merlin stared at him.

“Charming,” Geadon laughed. “I can see you two have a lot to talk about. I just wanted to introduce myself to you, and to congratulate you on completing so much of you destiny,” he said to Merlin.

“Destiny?” Arthur asked.

“Ah, yes. Quite a lot to talk about.” Kayik laughed alongside his master.

“Goodnight, Emrys, King Arthur.” Geadon nodded. He turned to leave, but stopped suddenly. “Oh, and I do apologize for my young apprentice’s mistake earlier,” he told Merlin.

“Mistake?” Merlin echoed.

“Yes, very unfortunate. He told you Arthur would have to die for Albion to exist.” Geadon laughed a little. Merlin did not think it was funny. “This is why I always stress rune reading takes practice,” Geadon said, and looked at Kayik disapprovingly. Kayik looked sheepishly to the ground. “The prophecy never said Arthur would have to die, it said Arthur _would_ die for Albion. As in he’d sacrifice himself for it. If he had to. Semantics,” Geadon waved.  Merlin gaped. “Oh, and I’m glad to hear you’ve not let that silly misreading put a strain on your relationship. If Kayik would listen more, he’d have heard me say that soulmates cannot be parted. No matter which story is being told, that remains the same,” Geadon said. “This whole mess probably would have been rather stressful if you’d have taken it all to heart.” He laughed.

“Soulmates?!” Arthur repeated, latching on to the one word he recognized.

“Yes, yes. What did you think _two sides of the same coin_ , meant, eh?” Geadon laughed merrily.

Merlin kept gaping as Arthur turned to look at him.

“Well, good night, and once again I apologize for the confusion.” Geadon nodded respectfully to the pair of them before he walked off. Kayik waved a sheepish goodbye.

“Merlin,” Arthur said as he watched them go.

“Yes?”

“You’re going to explain what the hell that all meant to me at some point this week,” Arthur said.

“Okay,” Merlin agreed, still in shock. He frowned and looked at Arthur. “Why not tonight?”

“Because tonight, we’re dancing,” Arthur said and turned to pull Merlin into him. They slowly danced together, Arthur holding Merlin close as Merlin looked back at him in amazement.

“And why not tomorrow?” Merlin asked.

Arthur smirked and kissed him. Merlin closed his eyes and let himself be danced around the room with Arthur holding him. A laugh pulled his attention away as the music wound down. Arthur didn’t let go of him, but pulled him closer, resting his head on Merlin’s shoulder.

Merlin looked up to see Gwaine being pulled out the door by Anna. Gwaine looked back at wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Merlin laughed. Arthur lifted his head up and frowned at him.

Arthur leaned forward and kissed Merlin until he forgot all about the other guests. Merlin held on to Arthur as he forgot the ball, Camelot, and the world around them. He moaned softly into Arthur’s mouth as Arthur did the same, his chest rumbling with it.

When they reluctantly pulled apart, Merlin looked back at Arthur’s blue eyes, more than a little dazed.

“That’s better,” Arthur murmured, looking smug. He moved his lips to Merlin’s jawline, trailing hot kisses along it. Merlin closed his eyes. “This is where you’re supposed to be for the rest of the night,” Arthur declared.

Merlin, slowly opened his eyes just to end up closing them again on a content sigh as Arthur’s lips moved to ghost against his own. “And where am I supposed to be tomorrow?”

Arthur smirked against his lips, and his hand trailed down wonderfully to Merlin’s hips. “Well, you did offer to tie yourself up to my bed,” Arthur reminded him happily, his voice gone a low.

Merlin opened his eyes to see Arthur’s hand coming up to his face. Arthur gently cupped his cheek, a soft, loving smile on his face. He tilted his head slightly and leaned forward as Merlin’s eyes slipped shut. When their lips met, Arthur smiled into the kiss, and Merlin couldn’t help but smile back a second later, forcing them to break their kiss as they were both beaming at each other. Arthur’s thumb reached out to caress Merlin’s lip and Merlin beamed brighter, a feeling of warmth blooming into his chest.

Arthur captured Merlin’s lips in a delicate kiss, and Merlin gasped softly.

“I love you.” Arthur smiled.

Merlin closed his eyes as the words warmed every part of him. Arthur’s lips brushed against his

“I love you, too, Arthur.” Merlin smiled back, capturing Arthur’s lips and making _him_ gasp.

 


End file.
